


Ghosts of Times past

by LordFlausch



Series: dead yet alive [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fights, Friendship, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Sadness, supposed unrequited love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordFlausch/pseuds/LordFlausch
Summary: After a few weeks back in the Ghostlands, you realise the events of Undercity make it impossible to stay there... so you move back to the place your former general and love is ruling over.Sequel to "The Journey to Undercity"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: The name of the lynx got changed to Mistral. Hope that isn't too confusing~  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Slowly, but steadily dead hooves clatter against dead stone. Spookiness is the only word describing the Ghostlands now. Lynxes are stealthy, spiders light on their feet and bats fly pretty much soundless as well. In years, these woods never heard the sounds of birds singing or chirping of crickets. Living life calm and gentle is not an option here. Death is everywhere, at anytime – in shape of the Scourge roaming the Dead Scar or even of your skeletal horse slowly striding towards Tranquilien. This time, you've went further than just to Windrunner Spire... after all, Deathholme was pretty active as well and since you came into possession of a horse in Tirisfal two weeks ago, the way isn't too far.  
Two weeks. That time had passed since you had seen HER.  
_“Tell everyone I won't hold any meetings today. You can go, all of you.”_  
Had she remembered? Had it meant something to her that her home – former home – was kept clean of any Scourge? Was the necklace not as worthless as she had proclaimed it? Back then, all these thoughts ruled over you... while you stood on the podium, when everyone else had left. As if in a trance, you finally had turned away, without your tears having stopped, but that hadn't mattered. What were tears worth, after all, if there was no one who cared. Some of the undead had shot you pitying looks, as if they would understand – possibly because they did indeed and you were not the first Blood Elf returning from Sylvanas crying. Nothing had been important, nothing but this dull emptiness in your chest. Returning to Silvermoon immediately had not been an option – how could you show this weakness to all of your people? Time had been necessary... time to deal with the fact Sylvanas wasn't the same and wouldn't ever be.  
_“Do you think I long for a time before I was the queen of the Forsaken?”_  
Why should she? After all that happened it was impossible that nothing would be different about her. Your own naivety had been to blame for the outcome. What had you even promised yourself? That she would open her arms and welcome you, or even better, would admit she always had feelings for you and had hoped you survived the Scourge and waited for her? One could almost laugh about that, if it wasn't that bitter. She had changed, exactly like the others had said. Corrupted, tainted... dead.  
Determined not to return to the Blood Elves, your steps had carried you out of the ruins and into Tirisfal Glades. The woods were dreary there as well, and death was everywhere. If it was not for the growling of Darkhounds and the flapping of Bats, it had been silent. At some point you had climbed a tree and waited, but you didn't know what for. For the pain to vanish? For you to wake up and see it all had been a dream, you were still laying in the medical room, from which she had just walked out, and you could still feel the touch of her hand? For death? You had laughed bitterly, since in this world it is not even sure if you would stay dead.  
You had waited for hours and just tried not to feel that agony anymore.  
Until a voice had sounded from below. “I assume your audience didn't go too well...” Your eyes had met two familiar yellow ones. “Jawless.” - “______.” A growl had echoed from below. “Mistral. You're here as well, obviously.” The lynx had puffed and lied down. “I assume your hunt went well?” The undead had laughed homourless. “Of course. Will you continue to bathe in pain, or will you get up and try to live with it?” - “You don't know, how much-” - “Is that so? I'll tell you something about pain. Pain is to die while I call out for my pregnant wife to run. Pain is to be ripped from the peace of death. Pain is to be raised as an undead. Pain is-”, his voice broke and he swallowed hardly, “mindlessly, but conscious having to kill my wife and to watch her raise. And the unborn child as well. And to see both of them end as cannon fodder, smashed on the gate of Quel'Thalas.” You had kept silent. “How... how can you live with that?” He'd grinned painfully. “Not at all. I'm dead.” - “Jawless, you know what I mean.” A bitter laugh. “Yes. I only exist to kill that bastard who's responsible for all of this.”  
You had gotten yourself together and jumped from the tree. Jawless had patted your shoulder. “You'll deal with it, ____.” - “Are we already on first-name-basis, Evan?” - “Obviously. Now come on, you've got to get home.” - “Not through that port.” Evan had raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “There's another option. Follow me.” Without a further word he'd turned away and begun walking in a certain direction, but his lynx had stayed close to you. After a bit more than an hour you had arrived in a town which is called Brill, recording to the purple.-haired. He'd led you through it, nodded to greet a few other Forsaken and stopped at a square dominated by a statue of the Banshee Queen. A few metres next to it there had been some skeletal horses, a vendor in front of them. “Stay here.”, he'd said and walked up to the salesman. You had leaned against the statue and closed your eyes. A few minutes later, you had heard the clattering sound of hooves coming towards you. “____.”, Evan stood in front of you, holding the rein of an undead horse. “Take good care of him.” - “Evan, I can't...” - “Yes, you can keep it. It's my gift for you.” He'd given you the chain serving as reins in a determined way. The horse had neighed happily, sure it sounded dead, but... to some point, that was fitting.”Before you think I just spent an enormous sum of money, think about the following: The fact you keep our queens spire clean is deeply appreciated. I only had to tell that vendor this and that you didn't wish to travel via translocation orb. He practically wanted me to give him to you.” - “Please convey my thanks.” You'd looked at the salesman and smiled, and he'd nodded in response. “All of us love our Dark Lady.” - “Me too.”, you'd said without thought and blushed immediately. Evan had laughed. “I understand your pain, ____.” You had nodded. “Now go, but come visit us then and now, alright?” he'd grinned, and Mistral had growled approvingly. You had stroked the lynxes head. “Thank you for everything, Evan.” - “It was my pleasure. Dark Lady watch over you.” - “As well as you. Shorel'aran.” You'd mounted and rode off, headed for the Ghostlands.  
And here you are since about one and a half weeks, and everything falls into routine again. Mavren had looked a little suspicious when you'd walked in on a skeletal horse, but kept his mouth shut. Some of the Blood Elves had asked about the meeting; you'd simply told them everything went all right.  
Your horse snorts hollowly as he registers a bat a few metres into the forest. “Keep calm, Lyn.”, you say. Lyn – in honour of Velyna, whose true death had set everything off. You've almost reached Tranquilien, and you let him gallop the rest of the way. “You're back, ranger.”, Mavren greets as you deliver your report as usual. “Did it go well according to your plan?” - “Yes. Nothing special. It's pretty calm there, well, if you can ever call the Scourge calm.” - “Alright. And Windrunner Spire?” - “Scourge-free.” The High Executor nods and waves his hand to dismiss you. You walk out without any word, place your horse in the stable of the inn before heading towards your room. Two weeks ago, you were placed here as well, but the world seemed better back then. Back then, you didn't know what Sylvanas had become.  
Had she remembered? Had it meant something to her that her home – former home – was kept clean of any Scourge? Was the necklace not as worthless as she had proclaimed it?  
IS THERE A HINT OF THE GENERAL LEFT?  
The question echoes through you with the force of a banshee's wail, but how could you hope to find an answer? A humourless laugh sounds through the room, until you realise it is your own. A better way to ask that question appears in your head. How can you hope for an answer without having to see her again? Without having to look at the damage done to her when her soul was ripped? Without... having to return to Undercity? But can you even do that? Will you be able to bear being close to that 'new' Sylvanas? A part of you says yes – that same one that considers you in her debt for saving your people. Another part says no – she's turned your life upside down enough already, and you have an acceptable existence in Tranquilien after all. Acceptable and with a daily routine. Doing the same, day after day. Is that even an option? Where's the adventure? There's probably more to do among the undead. And with the help of Lyn and the translocation orb it shouldn't be a problem to return here... but who would continue doing your job? Who would keep Windrunner Spire clear of any Scourge? This village in general... would they miss you? It isn't like you're there often anyway. Most of the time, you are in the forest, and the rest in your room. The only one you regularly talk to is High Executor Mavren... he'd miss you, probably. But he may take some joy in seeing you work directly under the Dark Lady. Maybe he'd even get some benefits out of that... appreciation, a little unit to clean Windrunner Spire... and how much it may hurt to be close to her, it hurts even more not doing so.  
It's possibly the best if you'd return there. Maybe it could even increase the chance of being able to get revenge on Arthas, since everyone there seems obsessed with that. Because one thing is perfectly clear: This bastard has to pay.  
Determined, you get up and go to Mavren – he'll understand, you hope.  
“High Executor?” - “____. What now?” - “I will move to the Undercity.” He smiles. “I had expected that you'd come here telling me that a week ago.” - “Huh?” - “I'm neither blind nor deaf, ranger. I noticed your reaction when I asked if you knew her before the Scourge. Instead of looking into my eyes and answering, you averted your head in a sad way. That could only have meant one thing... she had meant something to you. And don't think I didn't hear the screams coming out of your room in the night... nightmares, at which you scream the name of our Lady, hmm? You love her.” - “Mavren... how...” - “As I said, I'm neither blind nor deaf. And also, I know that. A friend of mine had the same problem, when her loved one was hurt badly... and she did not know if he'd live long enough for her to tell him.” You nod slowly. This undead is more astute than expected.  
“And, in my wise foresight, dear ____, I have ordered for a small unit to come here to take on your job. They should be here by tomorrow, so that'd be everything. I'd like to see it though, if you were to stay for a day or two to explain strategies and such to the squad against their enemies...” - “Alright, Mavren.” The undead smiles. “You'd better start packing, ranger.”

\- four days later -

It has taken a while for you to explain things to the unit and talk about strengths and weaknesses of acolytes, banshees, spiders, lynxes, bats and nerubians, who are living in the Ghostlands... but now, you stand in front of the inn, the few things you possess packed on Lyns back alongside some supplies.  
Mavren steps next to you to bid his farewell.  
“Which way is it that you'll take, ____?” - “I'm not too sure, I'm afraid...” - “Without an intension of stepping too close... take the route through the Plaguelands. A skeletal horse in Eversong Woods may rise suspicions.” - “It'd be faster though.” - “The question should be, do you intend of living in Undercity immediately?” You blink in a surprised fashion. You hadn't really thought about that. “I don't know, Mavren... do you think something else would be more... fitting?” - “Maybe it would be better if you were to move to Brill first. You'll be surrounded by fresh air there and may adjust better to the Tirisfal Glades. It's a good location, you may reach every place in two hours at most.”  
You nod slowly. “A good idea, I think. I was in Brill before, it seemed to be a pretty comfortable place.” - “Then go through the Plaguelands. A traveller in Brill is nothing special, you should be able to get a place to stay in the inn quickly... shall I send a messenger to reserve a room for you?” You smile. “I'd be glad. Sometimes, I wouldn't know what to do without you.” Mavren nods and takes a sealed letter out of his pocket, which he hands to you. “Give this to Magistrate Sevren in Brill. It's a letter of recommendation, so you should be able to get some work because of it.” - “Thanks, Mavren. You really think of everything.” He waves it aside. “You are kind of a hero to the Forsken, ____.” You kept our Lady's home scourge-free and we all have to be grateful since we-” - “-love our Dark Lady. Evan Jawless told me that as well.” Mavren laughs silently. “So he's still alive, eh?” - “You know him?” - “Not that much. He was here one or two years ago.” You nod, and an awkward silence follows. “So... that was it, hmm?” - “I guess. Farewell, High Executor Mavren of Tranquilien.” He laughs. “Farewell, ____ ______, ranger of Quel'Thalas. Safe travels.” - “Thank you for everything.” You hug him shortly, since he has become something alongside the term of a friend. He pats your shoulder softly. You mount Lyn, and Mavren clears his throat. “I hope I'll pronounce that correctly... Al diel shala.” - “Almost perfect.”, you answer, and he grins shortly. “Dark Lady watch over you.” - “Same to you. Shorel'aran.” With those words, you give a sign for Lyn to start walking, and he obeys. Weird how so many tell tales of the headiness of those horses... but maybe he's just happy being able to return home.

A few days later you cross the border to Tirisfal Glades at the bulwark and one of the guards is friendly enough to show you the way to Brill. “Just follow the way. At the first two crossings, just go further ahead, at the third one there's a sign on the right side guiding the way. - “Thank you.” - “No problem. Remember, patience... discipline.” - “I will. Farewell.” The Deathguard nods and you have Lyn fall into a trot, but soon allow him to gallop. “Happy to go home, aren't you?”, you say silently. Your horse snorts as if he agrees. The ride to town is pretty uneventful and doesn't take too long. As you arrive, you notice the Banshee Queen's statue. A gentle laugh escapes your lips. Somewhat ironic, that you come here again to serve the woman who explicitly told you she couldn't care less about you when you saw her last.  
You ride to the stable and the stable master approaches you. “Hello.”, he says, “what is it that you require?” - “Have you got a place for my horse?” - “Yes... how long?” - “To be honest, I plan to live in Brill in the next time... so I don't really know.” The undead nods. “It's 10 Copper a day.” You blink in a surprise fashion, since it had been more in Quel'Thalas. “They don't need food.”, he says, and his eyes glint behind the strings on his face. You turn your head in an embarrassed way, how could you have forgotten that? The stable master giggles. “The name's Morganus... just talk to me if you want to ride out anytime.” - “____ ______. Pleased to meet you, Morganus. Thanks for keeping an eye on Lyn. Do you want to be paid beforehand?” He shakes his head. “Bring me 3 Silver at the end of each month, that should be enough.” - “Thank you. Do you know where to find Magistrate Sevren?” - “The town hall... that building over there.” He points to one a bit further down the road. “Head to the first floor, you shall find him there... if not, ask the people in the town hall.” - “Thanks, Morganus.” He bows his head. “Trust no one...”, he says and leads your horse away. “I've got to trust you, like it or not...”, you mutter. After that, you stand straight and go to the town hall. An undead woman greets you inside. “Are you ranger ____ ______?” - “Yes.” - “The Magistrate is expecting you already. Follow me.”  
You do as told and are lead to another Forsaken, whose greenish hair stands wildly from his head. “Welcome to Brill, Blood Elf. I am Magistrate Sevren. I hope you had a nice journey?” - “Thank you, Magistrate. It was alright... I had to seek a hideout from the Scourge a few times, but it went well.” - “I heard from High Executor Mavren, that you wish to move here?” - “Temporarily, yes.” - “And after that?” - “I will be able to live in the Undercity, I hope.” The undead throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Only a few living beings promise themselves a lot from living in our capital...”, he interrupts himself and giggles, “...so, if you don't mind me asking, why do you wish to stay here?” - “Guilt.” Sevren pulls up what's left from his eyebrow. “Would you mind explaining that? Come, sit down.”, he says and gestures towards a chair in front of his desk, while he takes a seat behind it. You sigh. “I want to serve Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, since she gave her life for us all back then.” - “I see... and that's the only possibility to do so? Wouldn't other tasks be more appropiate? ...I heard, the Blood Elf who cleaned the Lady's spire went away... won't that be a good job for you?” You laugh. “What do you think, which Blood Elf is sitting in front of you?” The undead's features slip and his mouth falls agape. “By my grave's soil... I didn't know... how could I know... how can I possibly -” - “Don't talk too much with your chin hanging like that, you'll end like my friend Jawless. He only got his lower jaw a few weeks ago.” Sevren closes his mouth again. “Forgive me, ranger. Of course you may stay in Brill, I am honoured to have you here. Is there something I may do for you?” You chuckle. “Not just yet. I only want to head to bed today. In other respects... could you find someone to teach me your people's language?” - “Of course. Talk to Gina Lang in the inn, she may be of help.” - “Thank you... are there some tasks around here I could do?” - “I will take a look in town... but don't work too much just yet. Get to know the town, the glades, the language.” - “I will respect your advice, Magistrate. Goodbye.” With those words, you turn away. “Victory for Sylvanas.”, he says. You smile painfully, then you walk out of the town hall and into the inn. “'Gallow's End Tavern – nice name.”, you mutter more towards yourself before entering.  
Inside you notice an undead woman, who seems to be the innkeeper. “Are you the ranger Mavren wrote about?” - “Yes.” - “I am Renee Lauer, the innkeeper. Your room is prepared.” She leads you up some stairs and stops in front of a door numbered 5. “There we are... feel like you're home.” - “It is my home now, innkeeper.” - “Renee will do.” - “Alright.” The woman hands you key and turns away. “Oh, by the way, your room is 15 Silver a month. Just give me the money at each one's end. As for something to eat... hmm, I could have something around, but it's pretty simple food. But there is stock in the woods, Darkhounds and Bats, as well as some herbs... otherwise, Hamlin Atkins outside sells edible mushrooms... If you'll need anything, tell me.” - “Renee?” - “Yes?” - “Would you tell Gina Lang I'd like to learn the language of the undead from her?” She flashes you a smile. “I will be my pleasure. Have a good night, ____.” - “You too, Renee.” After that, she heads down the staircase, and you unlock your room. It is about the size of yours back in Tranquilien, but vastly more in the Forsaken style. The walls are grey, the floor and ceiling consist of dark wood. That same wood was used for the bed with grey sheets, the little desk with chair and the wardrobe. Looking out of a window, you can overlook Brill and even catch a glimpse on the silhouette of Undercity in the distance. A door leads into a small bathroom with a tub.  
You unpack and place your belongings in their rightful places, then you sit at the desk and write to Mavren that you arrived well and express your hopes on the undead squad keeping the Spire clean. After being done with that, you take a bath and head to bed, in the room that would be your home from now on.


	2. Chapter 2

The next weeks pass less monotonously than in Tranquillien. In the morning, you sit down with Gina and train Gutterspeak... which is slightly less hard than Orcish was when you learned it back then, being given you did have some knowledge of the common tongue, from which this guttural language of the dead had developed in the end. Two hours later, you go in town and look whether anyone there has some tasks for you – for example, the Apothecaries always need someone to bring them Darkhound blood, and Renee gladly takes the meat that is left over. Sometimes, the Apothecaries also need herbs – Doomweed, for example, which you look for all over the Tirisfal Glades. Sometimes, Forsaken arrive coming from the surrounding farmsteads to ask if you could lend a hand. In most of the cases, you have nothing against it, so you currently find yourself perched up a tree, Evan standing beneath you with a growling Mistral at his side. “Do we really have to do this?”, you ask. The idea of killing farmers and their workers is not really a thing that's morally right. Evan chuckles. “Yes, I'm afraid.”  
You two worked together a lot during the last weeks. He has become your best friend around here, and even though the Forsaken said to trust no one... you two had trust in each other. When he had stood in front of you after your daily Gutterspeak lessons, asking for your help in a task he had to do, you said yes. During the short ride he told you there were pumpkins to steal and farmers to kill.  
“Those farmers aren't as innocent as they seem. Some of our supply groups were slaughtered by them... they have something to do with the Scarlet Crusade, they provide their supplies... we can't allow that.” - “Hmmm....” - “Look. You get the pumpkins, I'll take care of them. Alright?” You nod, and the hunter leaps out of his hiding place, Mistral running past him. As the farmers have their eyes on them, you storm into the fields without attracting attention and put as many pumpkins in your bag as you can. 10, the Apothecary said. When you have them, you turn to Evan. And freeze. Your friend is battling 5 of these farmers and losing. Mistral is on the ground, heavily wounded. The undead looks at you and forms 'Run!' with his mouth, but you shake your head and draw your weapon. Then, you run towards the farmers, as silent as possible. Two go down at the same time, and after some trouble you manage bringing down the third one as well. Evan keeps another one occupied at the same time, breaks through his defence, jumps back, aims and shoots in less than two seconds... hitting the farmer straight through the chest. Then, he channels his power – for Mistral? You think the last one fled, so you turn to Evan, whose face is a mask of shock. “DODGE!”, you hear him shout, and do it instinctively – to the left. Next to you, a farmer falls to the ground, clearly surprised, his pitchfork stretched out in front of him. If he had hit you, you would've been in quite a lot of trouble. With things being that way, you hit the back of his head and he slumps together unconsciously. “Mistral...” Evan growls, “...finish him-” - “No. One of the Apothecaries in Brill recently said to me the Royal Apothecary Society needs some test objects. He looks usable. Evan laughs. “You think like a Forsaken.”  
He takes some rope out of his pockets and ties his limbs together, then he gets a bat wing, scrunches it up and uses it together with some rope as a gag. “Tasty...”, you murmur. „Oh, fried bat wings have quite the good taste. You should try, they're crunchy.” - “I'm talking of that one bat wing with probably some dirt on it.” - “That one? He didn't deserve better.” You giggle. “Will you get him into the Undercity or shall I?”, you ask. “You will. It was your idea. Besides, it is about time you'll go there again. Hand the pumpkins over.” You give them to him, since his tone doesn't leave any space for arguing. “But what if I meet her?” Evan grabs your shoulders and stares into your eyes. “Then, my dear ____, you will greet her respectfully and get him to the Apothecaries, or you greet her respectfully and leave the town.” - “And what if she wishes to talk to me? What if she didn't know I was here, if-” - “Calm down, girl. First, she will definitely know you're here. Secondly, if she wants to talk to you, she will have a reason for that. Thirdly: If she should talk to you, you'll answer her questions and nothing beyond that. Got that?” You nod uncertainly. “Now, give me a victorious smile and off you go! I'll get you something to eat in Brill later on, should you come back.” - “What, should I come back?” - “Maybe she'll keep you there overnight? Who knows, who knows~” - “EVAN JAWLESS!” He smiles innocently. “Have fun, ____. Dark Lady watch over you. Well, rather over your body on her bed~”, he says, then he mounts his horse and rides off, Mistral on his heels.  
“EVAN!”, you shout after him. “This...”, you growl silently. He always did such things, making rather naughty comments about you and the Banshee Queen... sadly, always hitting a nerve. “...if I get my hands on him...”, you say. You haul the farmer upon Lyn, who seemingly dislikes that a lot. He moves uneasily from one side to the other, prances nervously and shakes his head. “Sorry, dear, but we have to do it like that... when we're back in Brill, I'll wash you, alright?” The undead stallion neighs and calms down. “Good boy.”, you say and smile. Then, you take his rein and you begin your walk to the city.  
After about 45 minutes you pass the gates. As the farmer attempts to wake up, you hit him again, sighing, and he slumps together again. After you crossed the courtyard and the throne room, you realise you have no idea where the Apothecarium is... until you take a look on the map Mavren gave you back then. A curse escapes your lips. To get there, you would have to go past the Royal Quarter. You take a deep breath and start walking. The elevators guarded by Abominations, the Trade Quarter along with it's goo canals, the alley surrounding it, the outer circle... and you're able to see the Apothecarium just as you are on top of a bridge. As well as the entrance to the Royal Quarter... from which a group of people is just heading out. But Sylvanas is not among them. You let your breath escape, not aware you had been holding it. You move aside respectfully and wait until the procession passed you... when you sense someone's stare on you sending shivers down your spine. You turn to the Apothecarium and your breath catches as you look into Sylvanas' red eyes.„Anar'alah belore...“, you murmur softly. Luck doesn't seem to be on your side in this city. She raises an eyebrow to the figure on your horse, and you bow your head to greet her. She raises her hand and motions for you to come over, and you obey. “My Lady.”, you say standing in front of her. “What is this scum doing here?”, she asks, an authoritative undertone in her voice. “A Junior Apothecary mentioned them needing test objects...” - “And why that one?” - “Me and my friend, Evan Jawless, were on Sollidens Farmstead today, with the task to kill farmers... this one wanted to kill me.” The eyes of the Dark Lady narrow to slits for a second. “If Evan hadn't warned me, he probably would have succeeded. But I managed to dodge and, instead of killing him, hit him unconscious and brought him here.” The queen nods. “The Apothecaries will be pleased... come to the throne room as soon as you're finished.” You bow. “As you wish, my Lady.” A soft, human groan behind you catches your attention, and you rapidly spin around and hit the farmer again, knocking him back into unconsciousness. Turning back to Sylvanas, you see the trace of a smile vanish from her features. “Your reflexes have become better.”, she says silently, almost appreciative, then turns around and leaves.  
A slight blush covers your face when you go for the Apothecaries... they seem to build the Abominations there, and to research some things you are not sure if you even want to know them. An undead in the black robe of an Apothecary strides towards you, agitatedly talking Gutterspeak and you manage to understand him with some effort. “What are you doing here? What is that human doing here?” Then he seems to get a hang of himself and repeats both questions in Orcish. You answer in the same, since you are not that sure talking the literally dead language. “A Junior Apothecary called Holland mentioned you'd be needing test objects?”, you say uncertainly. Surprise takes over the features of the Apothecary, then he smiles, albeit a bit devious. “Always. And this one seems sturdy... Thank you, Blood Elf.” He hurries towards a table and takes something from a drawer, then he places some gold coins in your hands. He gestures to an Abomination, who takes the unconscious man from your horse and into an adjacent room. “If you should get the chance again, don't hesitate to come over.”, says the undead man, then he goes back to work. You shrug, mount Lyn and ride over to the throne room.  
“You're back faster than I thought...”, you hear the unmistakeable voice of Sylvanas. You dismount and pat your horse's side, then you go up to the platform and kneel in front of the stairs, at whose top the queen is enthroned. “Rise.” You stand up and wait for her to say something. “I heard you're living in Brill since a few weeks prior?” - “Yes. I moved in there about three weeks after... my first visit here. I quite enjoy my time.” - “Mavren did replace you, I assume?” - “Yes. He asked for a small group of soldiers. I taught them what I knew before I left.” Sylvanas nods approvingly. “They're doing good work, from what the reports said... and I also hear only complimenting words when it comes to you. The Apothecaries... well, they are exalted you're helping them.” You smile nervously. When would she give you the reason for this talk? “Next week, the Scarlet Crusade is planning an attack on the Calston Estate.”, the queen says calmly. “I want you to be there to catch the attack at the gates of their tower.” - I will be there, my Lady.” She nods, and for a second there is an unusual glance in her eyes. “Al diel shala.”, she says softly. “Victory for Sylvanas.”, you reply in the same tone and go, while your heart beats faster and a slight red creeps over your cheeks.  
During your ride through town, you notice the looks of the Forsaken around you. They were confused, sometimes mistrustful when you first came here, but now there is friendliness, even respect in their eyes. Not less nod in an appreciating way. Your work here, possibly also in the Ghostlands, seems to be well known already. In the Trade Quarter, you notice one of Sylvanas' Elite – a Dark Ranger. Dressed in black and red armour and a dark brown, almost black hood, her eyes narrow puzzled upon noticing you. She doesn't seem to be wanting to talk to you, though, and only nods politely and reserved. You lower your head as well and smile uncertainly, to which the corner of her mouth twitches amusedly. This facial expression is one you know from only one person. You stop your horse and dismount. “Anya... I didn't see you in ages.” - “Same for me. You've grown.” - “You don't.” - “I'm dead. Corpses are not well known for growing.” Amusement glints in her eyes. “What are you doing here, ____?” - “I brought a test object to the Apothecaries... and had an audience with Sylvanas after that.” - “Interesting.”, she says shortly. “If you would excuse me now... I spied on the Crusade and the Dark Lady is expecting my report.” - “Of course.” - “Embrace the shadows.” You chuckle. “You too.” The Dark Ranger goes away quickly, and you get on top of Lyn again and ride to the elevators and at last, out of town, going for Brill.  
After you stabled and washed your horse and walked to the tavern, a waving hand catches your eye. Evan sits at a table, grinning. Sighing, you shake your head and sit down with him. “And, how was it? You're back later than expected.”, he says and winks. “Evan, one day, you'll drive me into my own grave.” He grins. “I'll gladly show the way.” You laugh. “Seriously, ____. What happened?” You briefly sum up the events. “So, I might be able to say that, this meeting wasn't as disastrous as the last.” - “Probably true.” He smiles. “What do you want to eat? I said I'll pay.” - “Don't know... bread and soup?” He chuckles. “RENEE!” The Innkeeper comes across. “What is it?” - “Would you be so kind and get ____ some bread and soup?” She nods and turns around, when the features of the hunter suddenly beam up. “May you also bring along some meat for Mistral and... fried bat wings?” - “Sure.” When she is gone, you look at Evan, slightly aghast. “What? I did say you should try.” You laugh gently. “You're the devil, Evan.” He laughs, and some time later Renee places you meal in front of you. You have to admit, those wings do have some good taste. After the meal, Evan heads off, promising he would train with you tomorrow concerning the attack. You go to your room, take a bath and let yourself fall on the bed, where a dreamless sleep soon overtakes you.  
In the next morning, you head down to Gina Lang for your lessons as usual. She praises your skills. “You seem to get the hang of things, one or two weeks and we should be able having this lessons in my tongue.” You nod. “Thanks, Gina.” - “No problem. You wanted to train along with Jawless today, hm?” You nod. “Then I won't keep you occupied. Eat something and then, good luck!” - “Same to you.” She smiles and you go to Renee for a bite, and the to your meeting point with Evan: The statue in the centre of the village. Strange to say, he isn't there yet, so you sot down and wait. Patience is rooted within you as you needed it badly in the Ghostlands. But even after an hour, the hunter isn't there. Very strange. You walk back to the inn.  
“Renee?” - “Yes?” - “Do you know where Evan is?” - “No, I usually don't see him in the morning... ask Atkins, he's selling his mushrooms outside all day.” - “Thank you.” She nods. Outside the Gallow's End Tavern, you look for the mushroom farmer, and you notice Evan's horse isn't there, until you find him at the village's entrance. You come to a stop in front of him. “What do you require?”, he asks, which seems to be hard, being given his lower jaw is missing. “You can talk Gutterspeak, if you wish. I wanted to know if you've seen a hunter called Evan Jawless in the morning? Light blue crossbow, pale red lynx?” The mushroom farmer nods shortly. “Possibly...”, he says. You sigh and hand him a few copper coins. “He walked through town as usual in the morning today... and suddenly, one of the Dark Rangers of our queen stood in front of him. I overheard their conversation, she said he had to come with her immediately, the Dark Lady wished to see him... dunno, sounded pretty serious if you ask me. He followed her without resistance. The lady orders, we follow. Didn't see a trace of him since then.” - “Thanks.”, you reply shortly and turn to walk towards the Undercity.  
Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you. “____! Please come, Gretchen Dedmar needs your help!” A nervous Gina Lang is standing behind you. “What is it?”, you ask. “Come with me, please.”, the black-haired woman pants.  
You nod shortly and follow her to the upper level of the Inn, where a Forsaken with long, green hair is waiting. “Thanks for bringing her...”, she states weakly, directed to Gina. She nods and withdraws from the room. The undead in front of you begins to talk. “I heard of you, of your helping hand for the Forsaken...I would like to ask for your help, ranger.” You nod and gesture for her to continue. “It's so cold, now. The Plague of Undeath crawls through my veins like an icy serpent. The mindless state will be upon me soon. But no doomed destiny will prevent me from serving our Dark Lady. When the call arose I sewed body bags for the fallen soldiers of Sylvanas's mighty army.”, she reveals. “What can I do?”, you ask gently, even if the worry for Evan is still stuck in your head. You hope it won't be too hard. “Now my hands shake from the chill. If you would bring me five duskbat pelts, I could sew myself a blanket. Help me, ____, so that I can continue to serve the cause.”  
Empathy rises within you. This woman won't be herself soon, and even so it is her last wish to continue serving Sylvanas. You place your hand on her shoulder. Cold. Cold like all Forsaken. But the sadness in her eyes makes her seem even more so. “I'll be back soon, Gretchen.” She nods, sits down on the bed and wraps her arms around herself. As fast as you can, you're out in the woods searching for bats. With a small knife, you skin them and take their fur, but also their meat. Who knows, maybe Renee has use for it. Back in town, you buy some thread, then you bring all of these objects to Gretchen. "I appreciate your efforts, ____. May Sylvanas recognise your bravery one day...”, she murmurs sadly and gestures for you to leave.  
With a heavy heart, you head down to Renee and give the meat to her. “Sad, isn't it?”, she asks. “Hmmm... I wish I could do more...” The undead pats your shoulder and brings you something to drink. “Wine? Why that?” - “It numbs the pain a little.” You chuckle and drink the wine, feeling it is quite weak. “Dalaran Noir, isn't it?” She nods. “Didn't know you're well-versed in that.” You grin. “I got drunk a few times when I was younger. What I've always wanted to ask... are Forsaken able to get drunk?” She giggles. “We can... hard to explain, but yes.” - “Even those without a stomach?” - “Even those. We're also able to eat, but don't ask me how that works. Most don't do it anyway.” - “I understand...” - “Some eat corpses.” You nod, that wasn't surprising. “I wonder what's up with Jawless?”, Renee asks suddenly. “I don't know... Sylvanas ordered him to Undercity.” - “Then, it has to be serious. Very serious.” - “I hope he isn't in trouble.” - “Sure he won't be... I hope. I'm afraid you can't predict the Banshee Queen's actions.” Sighing, you take a sip from the glass. As weak as it was, the alcohol began doing it's work. “Do you want to eat something, ____?” - “Some bread if you have, Renee.” The Innkeeper leaves and comes back with a small loaf.  
“Thank you.” - “I heard you were in the Undercity yesterday?”, the Forsaken asks suddenly. You nod. “Sylvanas didn't change completely...”, you murmured. “Hmm? She didn't change very much ever, I think.” - “Not as the Banshee Queen. In comparison to the person she once was.” The Innkeeper looks at you, puzzled. “How has she been in past times?”, a voice asks from behind. Gina Lang takes a seat on a chair next to you. “She... she was... when she walked into a room, it seemed to be brighter. It was as if... her presence filled the room and she radiated a calmness that was just... soothing. Everything seemed possible as long as she was there. Her hair shone in the sun and always looked so soft... she was beautiful, gracious and a bit fierce. But a good fierce. One giving you hope and despair to your enemies. If she had a goal, she pursued it. Not that she'd taken all risks while doing so. But those from which she knew we could take them. Her smile... made the sunniest day pale in comparison. And she was passionate. Her speeches made people want to follow her, to trust her... they made them admire her. And she made me... love her.” You took a short break. “She did change a lot.”, you add, “But a part of this person... a fragment of what she was... is in Sylvanas, even now. And I want to find it.”, you concluded. After your speech, there is silence. Until one of the undead advances. „Ranger ____ ______. I will make sure you'll get a place to live in the Undercity. If someone should be there... it's you.” - “Magistrate... I... it would be an honour.” Sevren nods and pats your shoulder, then he leaves. Half of Brill's inhabitants have gathered in the Inn. They smile sadly as you pass them on the way to your room. Of all races they know the best how it is to lose someone.  
But you don't see Evan this evening.


	3. Chapter 3

In the next morning, you head out as early as usual, but Gina isn't where she normally sits. Instead, she's standing in front of the Inn, where a procession carries the dead body of Gretchen Dedmar to the graveyard and places her in a grave that has been dug for her. She is wrapped in a cloth made from bat pelts. You smile sadly. “Elor bindel felallan morin'aminor.“, you say in your mother tongue. A familiar voice asks: “What does that mean?” - “Sleep forever in quiet serenity.”, you whisper back. “A good blessing.”, the voice whispers exactly as quiet. “Sorry about yesterday.” You flinch as you feel something soft at your leg. Mistral rubs himself against it and purrs softly. “Evan?!” - “Yes. We'll talk later. Meet me after your lessons at Sylvanas' statue. But for real today.” You nod. When the ceremony for the undead is over, you have tears in your eyes. But you pull yourself together and go to your courses as usual. Gina smiles sadly and makes it shorter than normally.  
After that, you immediately head to the statue, where Evan is waiting. You notice he's wearing a new armour. A dark, faintly shimmering grey surrounds his body in a mail set. There is lighter grey leather on important joints. His gloves and boots are made from the same leather as well, but there are also small mail parts within. The armour looks expensive and good on him, working quite well with his crossbow. “You're here earlier, compared to other days.” You nod slowly. “Want to go somewhere else where we can talk without being disturbed?”, he asks. “Yes. And then, you're going to tell me where the hell you've been yesterday and what was up.” - “Sure. Did you worry about me?” You chuckle softly. “In your dreams.” - “I don't sleep.” - “See?” He laughs and heads to the stable, and the both of you get your horses. “I still can't believe you called your horse 'Rothoof.'” - “But the name does fit. Weird you named yours after a friend. As if you'd be riding her... could've called it 'Syl' as well, you know.” You stare at him, stunned. “One day, I swear to you...” Evan grins innocently. “Now come on. I've got a good idea where we may talk.”  
You ride out of Brill, north-west direction, until you arrive at some hills. Evan picks out a small valley and stops. “There. We should be able to stay undisturbed here.” - “So, Evan. What happened?” - “So you did worry?” You sigh. “Yes. You're my friend after all.” He laughs. “Alright. Just for the start, you know I'm out hunting all night, I guess?” You nod. “When I got the stuff delivered, it was almost morning. I wanted to go to Gallow's End Tavern, since I felt like having a bite. And suddenly, someone stepped out of the shadows. One of the Dark Rangers. I think it was Clea... well, anyway, she asked whether I was Evan Jawless, which I confirmed, naturally. I was a little uneasy, I mean, if one of them looks for you, it normally doesn't mean good news. She told me to come along with her immediately, the Banshee Queen wished to see me. And as I don't want to make your loved one...” - “Evan.” - “Our queen mad, I went along. Got Rothoof and we rode there... she just sat behind me. And as we were in Undercity, I did get nervous. I only saw Sylvanas one time, when she instructed me to guide you to her... that came out of nothing back then, actually I just had gotten an information about the Crusade then and wanted to tell her... and as I had done that, she'd told me to get you. But I'm wandering on the subject. Anyway, I was standing in front of her at some point. Her look gave me chills... I prepared for the worst.” - “And then?” - “She asked if I really was Jawless. Well, I said yes. After that, she asked me what happened on the farmstead... whether I could describe what happened, again. I did, obviously. As I came to the part where you almost died, her eyes narrowed immensely. I told her I was in panic you might die so I yelled at you... and you jumped aside because of that. You were exhausted, so it was plausible you didn't sense him. She said 'So you really did save her life...' then and I felt like she was more talking to herself... I said she might be exaggerating there but she didn't seem to hear me.  
After a short while, she looked back at me and seemed displeased with something. She wrote on a piece of paper, sealed it and gave it to me, telling me I should visit the armour merchant... Then, she dismissed me. I did it, and he came out with this set... said he was a little confused since he made it as another one for Nathanos Blightcaller. He fit it on me, which took the whole day yesterday, which is why I wasn't there.” You keep silent. “I asked him why I would get this set, and he looked at me in a puzzled way and explained the latter said I had made a great service to the queen and had to be rewarded, and that this armour might just be enough.” A slight shiver runs through your body. “...this... is it... is it possible, that...”, you mumble, more to yourself. “____, I think, Sylvanas likes you a bit more than she wants to admit.” Your cheeks turn a slight shade of red. All of our hopes... may it be they aren't as senseless in the end? Evan pats your shoulder. “Only time may answer that. First of all, she has to accept what's happening within her... and than can take an awful lot of time. Your chances may increase when you're movint to the Undercity, though. I heard you gave quite the touching speech yesterday, which mainly consisted in slobbering over a certain Dark Lady?” - “Not Sylvanas as she is now, rather the Rager-General Sylvanas... I can't believe I really said that... the damn Dalaran Noir can be blamed for that.” Evan laughs. “Well, give it a week and all Forsaken will know of that speech. Guaranteed some versions will be far worse than what you actually said.” You groan, clearly frustrated. “I'll never drink any alcohol again. Never.” The Forsaken goes on laughing. “Would you mind to stop? If only one of these other versions may head up to Tranquillien, I'm officially dead!” - “Good you'll stay here for a while then, hmm?” - “Anar'alah belore... another topic, please. Would you train with me today because of the attack?” He nods. You spend the rest of the day talking about the Crusade itself, and also, various strategies and tactics; theirs as well as the ones you'll use against them. After that, Evan is nice enough training them with you so that you may get some practical experiences. “Good, good.... and now, we'll head to the Scarlet Watch Post and look whether we can find someone you may train with.”  
Said and done. A few scouts and missionaries fall to your hands, and in the end of the day, you ride back to Brill, highly exhausted. You walk into the Tavern together, and you are surprised to find a Dark Ranger at the table you usually sit. You want to look for another one, when she turns her head towards you – it is Anya – and gestures for you to come over. Evan looks at you and nods, then he walks to her and you follow. Silence is between you three, until you raise your voice. “Anya... what are you doing here?” - “I thought it to be obvious. Sylvanas has sent me.” You nod. “What does the Dark Lady require?”, you ask silently. “I am to inform you that the assault on the tower is in two days. You two are expected to be in the Undercity tomorrow, in the War Quarter. There, you'll meet the other fighters, and the tactics of the assault will be explained. Don't be late.”, she replies and wants to stand up. “Wait.”, you say gently. She looks at you, puzzled. “Do you wish to eat something?” She smiles whimsically. “Nice of you to ask. But no thank you, I have to inform others about this as well. Sorry. But enjoy your meal.” - “Al diel shala.”, you say, and she nods and walks out of the Inn. Evan shakes his head. “I have to say, those Dark Rangers are rather creepy.” You giggle. “She was almost the same when she was alive.” - “You knew her?” - “I knew almost all of the Dark Rangers in life, we were comrades, after all.” - “Makes sense.” You laugh shortly. “Definitely.” Renee walks over to you two. “What can I get you?” - “Some spiced wolf meat, if that's alright. And some salad?” Evan only shakes his head. She nods and leaves, but returns shortly after. You eat in silence, and when you've finished, you say goodbye to your friend, who leaves the Inn after that. Another undead takes a seat where he sat instead. “Hello, ranger.” - “Sevren? What are you doing here?” - “I contacted the Innkeeper in the Undercity. You can move in there tomorrow.” You smile. “Thank you, Sevren.” - “No problem...” - “Should you need my help someday, don't hesitate to ask.” He nods. Then he leaves with a murmured “Victory for Sylvanas.” You smile slightly and head back to your room.  
Sitting in the bathtub, you think about everything. Sylvanas... was feeling something towards you. Had that been the case when she was alive? You sigh. You should probably have done something together with her more often. But that's past... and there is something within Sylvanas, something almost intangible. As soon as you'd be in the Undercity... you could see her every day. Albeit, that's rather unlikely. She's probably got a lot to do as a ruler. Yet... the possibility is there. A soft smile creeps on your features. It would definitely get interesting in the Forsaken capital, that's sure.  
Afer your bath, you pack your things and go sleep, in your last night in Brill.

In the next morning, you rise early, since you want to head out earlier as well. Your new home is waiting, after all. You bid farewell to Brill – even though it was only planned as a transition, the few months there had been enough for you to grow close with the inhabitants. Gina Lang promises to find a new teacher for you in the Undercity, so that “You won't dare give up on your lessons...” Magistrate Sevren takes your promise to come over once in a while to look if someone here needs help. And Renee hands you a few bites to eat. You thank everyone, get your things on Lyn, wave and ride out of the village.  
Arriving in the Undercity, Evan guides you to the Stable Master. “Hello.”, you say. “How may I serve you?”, she asks. “Have you got some space in your stable for my horse?” - “Sure thing... how long shall it stay here?” - “I don't know. I will live here starting today, so... have you got a rent price?” - “10 silver a month. You pay a the end.” - “Alright. Thank you, …?” - “Anya Maulray. Pleased to meet you.”, the Forsaken states shortly. “My name is ____ ______.” - “I've heard of you. I feel honoured.” You wave it aside. She takes away your horse. “It's more expensive than in Brill here.”, you note in a low voice. “What do you expect, we're in the capital.” You chuckle. “Well, seems to make sense. Innkeeper?” Evan nods and walks to the Trade Quarter, where the Inn is located on the top floor. “You're Innkeeper Norman, I assume?”, you ask. “Yes. What do you require?” - “Have you received a letter from Magistrate Sevren?” - “Indeed. I assume that you are the mentioned ranger?” You nod. “I have a chamber for you.” He takes you up to the first floor of the Inn and opens a door with the number 17 on it. “Here. I hope it will please you. I expect 30 Silver at the end of a month.” With that, he leaves. The room is arranged like the one in Brill, so you're able to find your way quite fast. After you sorted and put your things away, you head back to Evan, who had waited downstairs. “I'm ready.”, you declare shortly, and you go to the War Quarter, where a crowd consisting of all Horde races has already assembled... the most are Forsaken, though. Obviously. You join them and are accepted silently. You recognise a Blood Elf as a Warrior from your past ranger unit and nod to acknowledge his presence, which he comments with a beaming smile. You roll your eyes slightly and turn to the podium, where a slender figure appeared you recognise as Anya. The Dark Ranger gets everyone silent with only one gaze. “Useful talent.”, Evan whispers. You nod, while the Dark Ranger rises her voice.  
“Welcome to the Undercity! I think you all know why you're here. The Scarlet Crusade plans to attack us, but thanks to our scouts, we could be aware of that way before. Tomorrow, we will strike to prevent their assault and carry the battle to their gates! Their preparations aren't finished and completely useless against us. The Scarlet attack won't be taking place. Instead they will be crushed, scrunched like a bug beneath our feet!” A cheer erupts echoing through the hall. “Has she always been able to talk like that?” - “She was always quite talented. Sylvanas is better though. You would be ready to go to hell with her right now.” He laughs quietly, and Anya talks again. “You will be split into teams having different tasks. Talk to one of the Dark Rangers, they will be your commander or get you to find the right one. Today, you will meet your group and plan your strategies. We'll meet at sunrise, close to their stronghold. FOR THEM TO FALL!” She ends, and a roar emerges from the crowd's throats, approvingly echoing through the hall while she heads off the podium.  
“Then we'll report to a ranger, won't we?”, you ask with a low voice, and Evan hums, consenting. After a few minutes, you spot a Dark Ranger close by. You point towards her. “She may help us.”, you say. “Not needed.”, a voice says from behind you and as you spin around rapidly, Anya is standing behind you, a slight grin covering her face. “You two belong to my unit.” Evan nods. “Who else is in the team?” - “They're waiting in the back.”, she declares and turns around. You don't have quite another choice than to follow. After a short while, she comes to a stop at a small group. You spot two Forsaken, a Rogue and a Warlock with a Felhound, an Orc Shaman, a Troll Druid. And the Blood Elf Ranger from before. He beams, like a few minutes ago, when he spots you. From the corner of your eye, you notice Evan rolling his eyes and silently agree with him. “Now where we're all assembled”, Anya begins, “we'll look for a quiet place and discuss our tasks.” Then she starts walking again, leading you to some barracks, and into a rather large office. “I suggest we'll introduce ourselves, that's going to make the whole thing easier. I am Anya, Dark Ranger serving Sylvanas Windrunner and leader of this attack.”  
“The name's Kuujinashi.”, the Troll Druid says, “but Kuuji's gonna do.”  
“Grace Anderton, and the little one here is Droonom.”, the Forsaken Warlock states.  
“Norae'thas Dayfall.”, the Blood Elf Warrior declares. Right. That was his name.  
“Louis Mouldblade.”, the Forsaken Rogue adds with a grin on his face.  
“____ ______.”, you say shortly.  
“The lynx is Mistral, and I am Evan Jawless.”, your friend concludes.  
“It seems you have a chin.”, the Blood Elf says, puzzled. He grins. “That's why I kept the name after getting my chin.”, he winks, and you chuckle softly. “Same thing happened to me back then.”, you state. “Good, now where we're all introduced... I would like to talk about our task and strategy.”, Anya announces calmly, and silence erupts as you all take a seat. “We have one of the most important task during tomorrow's assault, and that's also why our group is so small. The command is to take care of the leader of the planned Scarlet attack. If possible, he is to be taken prisoner... but it wouldn't be much of a problem if he should die. Understood so far?” After a common nod, she continues talking about strategy, plans and tactics of the entire assault, up until the late evening. After that, you are dismissed, and after a short meal you head up to your room, sleeping without dreams in your first night in the Undercity.  
“Wake up, ______. It's about time.”, you hear a voice ripping you from your sleep. Anya is leaning against the doorway, a grin playing on her features. “I wasn't aware you would be sleeping that long...” - “...normally, I don't. But the day was rather tiring yesterday.” She chuckles. “Maybe. I don't feel such things anymore...” - “Being dead seems to have it's perks.” The Dark Ranger laughs gently. “Looking at it like that, yes. Now get up, Norman has already prepared breakfast.” - “Thanks...” You get up, put on your set of armour and take the Undercity tabard Anya is holding out for you. “For recognition... in the heat of the battle, some might not be able to differ between friend and foe.” You nod, then you walk downstairs together and take a seat with your team, spend the time talking about everything and nothing, mostly about the Horde's cuisine, and encouraging yourselves for the assault.  
Soon, Anya gives a sign for departure and you climb up your mounts, hurrying to the meeting point. “Hey ____!”, Evan utters. You turn around to face him. “Rothoof isn't the worst name for a mount.” - “Hmm? How would you know?” - “I asked everyone for those names. Kuuji's Raptor is Ripper, Norae'thas' Hawkstrider is Celrea, Grace's horse is Olivia... and Louis' is called Mouldribs.” - “Mouldribs. What the?!” - “Yes. Rothoof isn't that bad after all, eh?” You laugh. “True. And Anya's horse?” - “Didn't ask. You'll do it, for me?” You nod and ride ahead to Anya. “What's up, ______?” - “Just curious... what's the name of your horse?” She laughs shortly. “Her full name is Caheahen Emaeeli Talarena Airina Illthroat the Fallen. Or, summed up, Cetaif.” You blink, surprised. “The first four names... the names of your former unit members, am I right?” She nods and seems to have a lump in her throat. You pat her shoulder and fall back to Evan. “And?” - “Caheahen Emaeeli Talarena Airina Illthroat the Fallen.” - “Quite much of a tongue-twister.” You shrug. “She has a reason.” He nods, understanding.  
“Attention! We're getting close to the camp!”, Anya calls, and you fall silent.” In the camp, you stable your mounts and walk on foot to a point close of the tower's walls. “We had talked about that yesterday, but just to be sure... when the main assault starts, you'll keep behind me as unobtrusive a possible. The secret passage is probably unguarded, but be aware us meeting some soldiers is possible. Our biggest advantage is surprising them, so be careful.”, Anya whispers as silent as possible. You nod, approving with all the others, not to make too much noise. Anya heads back and uses her fingers to give a sign she's ready. After a short while, the signal for attack sounds... the barking of Darkhounds. The Horde's forces march towards the stronghold, trying to make not much noise, and soon after, the clangour of swords and the screams of the wounded and dying resonate through the air. A few moments later, Anya hisses “Now.”, and advances in the direction of the passage, which had been planned as an escape originally, as ironic as that was.  
The group walks in without attracting attention, and you become aware why only one Warrior and no Tauren is accompanying you – to keep the surprise. A few meters into the tunnel, Anya gestures for a short stop and places her finger over her mouth. Then, she spies around the corner and a silent laugh shakes her body. You look at her with a questioning gaze, and she waves the team to move forward.  
In the tunnel, a Scarlet Missionary and a Zealot stand, currently at ripping away various pieces of clothing off the other's body. They seem to be too occupied with keeping their lip locked so that they won't even notice the battle going on above them. Anya rolls her eyes and takes two arrows, aiming. This action is definitely not fully morally right... but you can understand Anya's perspective. After a tiny noise of the bowstring, the bodies fall to the ground without much noise, still entangled in each other. “Come on, we have to move on.”, she says quietly. “Are you crazy, Anya?! Those two were defenceless!”, Norae'thas rages. “Defenceless as many of the Forsaken these two killed.”, she counters, shrugging. “That does not justify it! You aren't better than them!” - “She never said she was. And by the way, she is. It was a quick death.”, Evan moves ahead, calmly. “Have you even got an idea, what moral is?!”, the Warrior growls. “Shut up, Dayfall.”, you say, determining, “you can be upset about that later. But now, we have a task, so get a hang of yourself! I'm not fully consent with that action, but I can at least control myself!”, you conclude, earning an angry glare. “Ya spoke well, ______. We gotta go on.”, the Troll says, ending the discussion. Anya moves on calmly, stepping over the corpses and hurrying down the passage. Norae'thas flounces behind her, clearly angry. The rest follows and you go last. In the arch of the hold, you meet one or a few Scarlets once in a while, but they fall after a short while. Eventually, you end up assembled in front of the command room of the keep, and Anya gestures for the Warrior to move ahead. He looks down furiously on the Dark Ranger first, but after a single sharp glare he decides else and kicks down the door.  
In the room, your target is standing – together with at least 15 others. You are outnumbered, nevertheless, the first arrow kills one after a second – Evan's work. Silent like a shadow, Mistral jumps into battle, along with Kuuji in his bear shape, and with a battle cry - “FOR SYLVANAS!” - you storm after them. Battle emerges around you, and you see the Crusaders fall in the corner of your eye while also being occupied with some of them. Evan and Grace, the Warlock, provide support from the back, and Anya switches between shooting and bringing the Scarlets down with her swords, while Droonom and Mistral keep some busy along with Kuuji. When the bodies of your enemies lay on the ground, you turn around and see Louis having problems with two at the same time. Unerring, you hit one of them and he falls. As the Rogue wants to thank you, his eyes widen and his mouth opens to a scream you hear too late. Pain erupts in the back of your head, and you fall forwards. The last thing you notice is a scream and another pain in your back, then blackness washes over your senses.


	4. Chapter 4

When you awake, you are in a place not known to you. The walls are made from stone, illuminated by torches. You are on a bed, across from you, there is a wardrobe, definitely in the style of the Forsaken. Turning to the right, you manage to see a chair, and on the left, you notice the last end of a red cape vanishing through the doorway. Whoever it was, timing wasn't optimal. You want to raise your head to call them back, but a stinging pain in your skull forces you to lay back down, groaning. Alarmed by your noise, a Forsaken Healer storms into your room. “You are awake!” - “Yes. How long am I here?” - “4 days have passed since the attack.” - “Oh...” - “Your friends have been worried. You looked bad when they got you here... covered in blood, unconscious... we feared we may lose you.” - “You don't have. I'm alive.” She laughs shortly. “Indeed you are. Would you mind me letting your friends in? They're waiting outside.” You nod. “Get them, please.” The Healer smiles and walks out of the room, and soon after you hear quick steps – and paws – and not even a second later a red fur ball shoots on your bed and lays down halfway atop, halfway next to you. You stroke Mistral's head, and he purrs from deep in his throat. “I already feared you'd have to be resurrected...”, Evan says. “Don't worry, I won't die that fast.” Another voice raises. “Your state was critical. A bit later and you would've died... Kuuji did his best back then, but he isn't a healer, but a bear.” Anya steps out of the shadows. She looks tired. “What happened?” She grins painfully for a second, then takes a seat and starts talking. “The commander got you. He came from behind and hit the back of your head with the knob on his spear. After that, he wanted to stab you... well, I could prevent that.” - “She shot an arrow through his arm from a 4 metre distance. I never saw anything alike.”, Evan added.   
“She's a ranger, what do you expect?” - “That means you're also able to do that?”, Evan asks, surprised. You want to nod, but pain shoots through your head at the slightest movement. You go for a small smile instead. “Not as well as Anya, but yes.” The Dark Ranger smiles. “You praise too much. I'm not that good.” - “Compared to Sylvanas, we're all not good, not to say beginners beyond belief.” She laughs. “True indeed. She isn't known to be best archer of the Eastern Kingdoms, not to say of entire Azeroth for nothing.” Evan rises an eyebrow, surprised. “I never saw her fight.” You laugh. “And if you want to keep a hint of your self-esteem, I suggest you keep it that way. She is just incredible.” - “For example. If 5 squirrels ran away from her at the same time, it would take maximum a couple of seconds for all of them having an arrow in the eye.”, Anya adds. “...that alone makes me question my capability...”, Evan murmurs. You pat his shoulder. “Don't worry. You're still an excellent Hunter.” He smiles. “Thank you, ____.” - “Back to the topic. What happened while I was unconscious?” Anya continues.  
“My arrow got the stab to be a cut. I had hoped to get you out of harm's way, but... let's say the healers observed you'll keep a scar. Anyway, my arrow was poisoned, so the commander laid on the ground, as unconscious as you were. All we had to do was to get out the both of you, well... we could kill the rest of the Scarlets fairly easy, but... Grace didn't make it. Droonom got mad and we had to dispose of him... sadly. Kuuji did his best keeping you alive until the rest of our forces were there... They took the commander, he's being interrogated since yesterday. First results to be seen. A part of the Crusade was able to flee, probably to the monastery... we won't mind, the assault was successful after all. We brought you here. You were asleep for 4 days, now you're awake.” You hum approvingly. “We were fairly worried. There were at least 10 letters from Brill, asking how you fare. You are almost a heroine to the Forsaken. Even Sylvanas asked about you.”   
Suddenly, your mouth is dry. “She... has... ?” Evan nods. “As we gave our report to her and Anya mentioned the incident concerning you, she looked quite... worried. Whereas only short.” The Dark Ranger laughs. “She was with me in the same evening, and talked to me in a tone I never heard. It sounded worried on the one hand, albeit angry at me as I was partly responsible for your situation, and another part sounded thankful that I saved your life. After she yelled at me for a while, giving all honour to her title 'Banshee Queen', she thanked me I got you out of there.  
Then she interrupted herself mid-sentence and left.” Evan looks at you, one eyebrow raised half teasing, half curious. You blush slightly and pull the sheet up. Anya notices and chuckles. “She said you shall report to her when you're able to walk.” When you want to move the sheet to get up, Mistral presses you down again, determined. Evan laughs. “When you're able to walk again. You can't even nod without grimacing in pain.” He pats your shoulder. “Rest for a few days, will you?” You smile weakly. “I will ask around who was asked to continue your Gutterspeak lessons, alright? You'll have something to do then.” - “Yes. Thank you, Evan.” He mumbles, consenting. “Good.” Mistral makes a small noise, and the Hunter rises his head, alarmed. “He's hungry. I've got to go, I'm afraid.” Anya stands up. “I'll look for the teacher. Get your lynx something to eat.” - “Thanks, Anya.”, Evan states with a slight smile and nods. Mistral jumps off the bed and sticks to his feet. “See you later, ____.”, he mentions, then he's gone. The Dark Ranger rises as well. “I will go ask around, then. Rest for a while.” - “Dark Lady watch over you.”, you say softly. “Over you as well.” Anya vanishes through the door, and leaves you alone. Shortly after, the Healer enters. “I would have to take a look at your wound, if that's alright, ranger.” You affirm and she helps you get in an upright position without having too much pain. Albeit a place in your lower back pinches a little during that, and you assume the wound is there. Skilled yet dead hands loosen the bandage around your body. “The wound is healing well.”, she says calmly, gets another bandage drenched in healing potions, casts a healing spell and wraps it around you. You thank for her help and she waves it away, helping you lie down again. Then she says goodbye and leaves, you having no other option than to wait for your teacher in Gutterspeak.  
Minutes and minutes pass.  
Until steps are to be heard on the corridor again and a slight knock on the door. “Come in.”, you say quietly, and a Forsaken in an Apothecary's robe enters. “You are ____ ______?” - “Yes. Can I assume you'll teach me your language?” She nods. “Gina Lang is a friend of mine. I am Vallia, one of the Apothecaries of the Royal Apothecary Society. You did a lot for us...”, she smiles slightly, “so I'll do that for you.” - “Alright. How long will you be able to stay?” - “I'm freed from my normal duties as long as you're laying in here. When you're healthy again, come down to the Apothecarium after your breakfast every morning and ask for me, then we'll continue your lessons.” After your approval she starts, and her courses keep your mind focused rather than forcing the lethargy of being wounded on you.  
When you are dismissed from the infirmary a few days later, you're able to understand the language far better and try talking in it with some Forsaken every now and then. You're just headed for the Inn when you realise you had to report to Sylvanas as soon as you were able to walk again.   
Rapidly, you spin around and walk to the Royal Quarter, asking one of the Dreadguards where the Dark Lady is. “You are the ranger, aren't you?” After your nod, he gestures for you to follow, and guides you deeper down through a set of corridors, where he comes to a stop in front of a massive door and knocks hardly, three times. A supposedly annoyed voice replies.  
“What is it?” - “Someone wants to-” Sylvanas interrupts him, sharp and dangerously low. “Didn't I say, I do not wish to be disturbed beyond my audience hours?” You can see the guard shake, and when he talks, his voice sounds way more unsure than it did moments ago. “It... you... your order...” A sigh. “If you think it to be important enough to ignore my command, I, for you, hope you have a good reason. Send him in, whoever it is.” Hesitant, the guard opens the door, bows deeply, and you walk into the office of the Banshee Queen.  
The owner is focused on a piece of paper in her hand and ignores you completely at the first. But since you are trained in patience, being a ranger, you wait, gaze locked on Sylvanas. As the Dark Lady finally puts down the sheet and her red eyes grant you a piece of attention, they widen in surprise, something like joy blinking in them for a moment that vanishes in the indifference of the crimson orbs to soon. You return the look shortly before bowing down (albeit a bit stiff because of your back). “You wished to see me as soon as I am fit enough... here am I.” - “Sit down.”, she declares shortly, and you take a seat in front of her. “Are your wounds are healed up so far?” - “Yes. I won't be fully resilient within the next few days, but I am ready to do some small tasks again.” She nods, and changes from Thalassian to Gutterspeak. “I heard you're making progress in the tongue?” A slight smile creeps on your face. “Yes. My mentor praises me regularly for my fervour and success. It is quite easy...” You look for the right phrasing. “... if you consider Gutterspeak evolved from Common and I learned it back when the High Elves were allies with the Alliance.” She nods. “Your pronunciation still has a slight accent, but overall, it sounds fairly well.” - “Thank you for the compliment, my lady.”, you say and can't suppress an elfish twitch of your ears. She was never one to praise much, so it is an appreciation she even does that. She raises an eyebrow, puzzled, and in this moment she looks so much like her living self that you can't suppress a short chuckle. “What's so funny?”, she demands, a slightly threatening undertone in her voice. “Nothing, really... but just now... a memory of the past.”, you end, vaguely. She stands up and moves around the table, forcing you to stand up. Standing so closely to you, it would be a pleasant moment, if it weren't for the icy coldness in her eyes. “Listen well, Blood Elf. The Ranger General is dead, and you would be better off not to forget that, is that clear?!” Distressed, your ears sink down. “I know... but she'll never be fully dead.” With that, you lay a hand on her heart and on yours and look in her eyes, the old sadness of losing something loved in yours. Her eyes widen in surprise, and something you can't quite describe lies within them, before they get hard and cold as ice again. “Out.” A single word slices through the air, and you step back, bow shortly and leave without a single noise.  
You allow yourself to cry outside of the city, at the shore of the Lordamere Lake, the city of the dead in your back, gaze locked on the water.  
A slight growl sounds behind you, and you don't even get the interest to look whether it is something dangerous or not. The emptiness and sadness are too overwhelming. But the sound slowly softens to a purr and a warm head rubs on your back. “Mistral...?” The lynx strides around you and licks over your cheek, before he purrs again and lays down right next to you, head snuggled at your leg. That means inevitably... “What are you doing here, ____?”, someone asks behind you, and Evan steps from the trees, the prominent light blue crossbow strapped to his back. You tell him everything, starting with your release from the infirmary to the disastrous audience, and laugh humourlessly at the end. He walks over to you and takes a seat at your side. “That was too much at once. Sylvanas is different from us. She doesn't accept her feelings that easily. It was quite simple for me to admit the both of us are friends, or that I still love my wife and child, but she was tortured and twisted to an extent...  
I can't imagine her just being content with her emotions. If you really want to be let in that literal fortress around her heart, don't try it with a battering ram, but instead with a hammer and a gouge and a lot of patience.” You laugh shortly because of that comparison. He grins. “And before you'll be even fully aware of it, she'll acknowledge your efforts and let you in.” A smile creeps on your face. “You always manage to bolster me up...” Evan smirks. “And if she has you in her fortress, it won't take long until you're inside somewhere else.” - “...and ruining the moment right after.”, you say deadpan, and the Hunter laughs. “The look on your face is too funny then.”, he defends himself. You can't suppress a chuckle. “Seriously, how was your wife able to stand you?”  
The look on his face gets lonely and despaired within not even a second. “Belore... I... I'm so incredibly sorry, Evan.” - “To answer your question, she loved my sense of humour.”, he admits, his voice shaky and low. “And she doesn't even have a grave. That's why I was in the Ghostlands, back then... I looked for her. Something I could have been able to bury.” Tears dry to dust on his face. “I found nothing. My memory let me down. I didn't know where she had fallen, I...” his voice tumbles and he keeps sitting in silence, and without hesitation, you lean over to him and pull him close. No matter how cold he may be, keeping a friend from a hug in such a situation would be wrong. Sobbing, he leans into your embrace and even Mistral decides to cuddle him. “Evan?” - “Hm?” - “What would you think about us going back and looking for her together?” - “You would do that?” You nod. “You're my best friend. Sure I would do that.” He smiles. “Thank you.” Gratefully, he looks in your eyes without further words. “When?”, you whisper. “As soon as possible.” - “Since it won't be too hard, let's go later on. I got the feeling Sylvanas won't wish to see me again to soon.” He smiles. “That will be the case at some point. She'll miss you, I hope.” You laugh. “Possibly.” Together, you head back to the Undercity, pack a few things and go to the stables. Riding through the city on your horses, Anya walks towards you. “You're going for a ride?” - “Yes.”, Evan declares, “We're going to look for remains of my family, to bury them. They fell at the gate of Quel'Thalas.” She blinks, surprised, but then nods. “Good luck. Al diel shala.” - “See you soon.”, you add, and the both of you ride past her. “Say, ____.... what does her last sentence mean?” - “Safe travels.”, you translate. “I understand. By the way, what do you think of talking only Gutterspeak to compensate your missed lessons?” - “Belore, I've got to tell Vallia. Would you wait at the Translocation Orb? I'll come as soon as I've finished.” He nods. You turn Lyn around and dash to the Apothecarium, where to search for your mentor and explain the situation to her. “Alright. Laudable you'll at least train during your travel. Dark Lady watch over you.” - “Over you as well.” She nods, and you ride out again. Atop the bridge, you feel this one gaze on you, unmistakably belonging to the ruler of this city. You turn around and look in her eyes, before hinting a bow, then spin around again and gallop out of the Undercity. As expected, Evan stands in front of the Orb, Mistral at his side. “Ready?”, he asks. You nod and the both of you leave together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All these wonderful comments really got my motivation up for updating again today, so thank you all!  
> Depending on how I'll manage, this fic will be either completed tomorrow or the day after.  
> Have fun!

Like back then, the sudden change in temperature is overwhelming. You walk out of the Inner Sanctum, and as Lor'themar spots you, a smile takes over his features. After a short conversation concerning your reason for this visit, you go through the town. “Quite the beautiful place.”, Evan observes. “Yes, it is indeed.” - “Were you born here?” You shake your head. “No. I was born in a village located in what's the Ghostlands today. It doesn't exist anymore, the black soil of the Dead Scar is where it once was. The house of my family was right next to the river.” - “And your family?” - “When I became a ranger, well, the contact became less and less frequent. They wanted me to become a Blood Knight, I yearned for adventures in the forests... and a General with blonde hair and blue eyes.” He laughs. “You didn't tell your family about your thing for the General , did you?” You grimace. “I did, actually. That made them break contact completely. Wrote a last letter telling me I was a disgrace for the entire family and thus, no longer welcomed. They were pretty... conservative. I don't know whether they're still alive, and, to be honest, I don't really care.” Evan nods. “You still seem to wear their name?” You laugh. “No. My name is my own. The rangers understood my problem and helped me find a new one.” He pats your shoulder and Mistral purrs softly. “He likes you more and more.”, Evan grins, and you chuckle. “Well I hope so.” After a short while, you're our of town and a Dragonhawk carries you towards Tranquillien. “I wonder if they still know me there?”, you ask jokingly. “Don't worry, you're hard to forget!” - “Thank you very much.”, you say and grin.  
After a few hours, you land and you get an exuberant greeting, by Mavren as well as the battalion calling itself UftuWS – Unit for tidying up Windrunner Spire. Almost immediately after that, you mount your horses and ride south towards the gates, being extremely cautious close to Deatholme in the process. “____?”, Evan whispers, “Could we take a look at the Spire on the way back?” - “Of course.”  
As you reach the gate, the memory of that day comes up again.  
“Shindu fallah nah! Fall back!”  
“Hard to believe we stood on different sides back then, even if not out of free will...”, you murmur in a low voice. He laughs silently. “Yes, hm?” Some bones are laying on the ground, and Evan describes his wife, the jewellery she wore, and her clothes. You spend the rest of the day searching, yet find nothing. During the night, you try your best keeping up, but fatigue washes over you due to the healing injuries. As you wake up in the morning, it is silent, and you follow the track of your friend to a skeleton wearing the golden bracelets of his wife, another one next to it having the size of a child shortly before birth. He is kneeling in front of them, sobbing, slams his hands onto the ground and screams so loudly then and now that birds fly up from their trees and even Mistral, who is pressing against the back of his master, growls silently. “Elor bindel felallan morin'aminor.”, you whisper, and Evan recognises words and voice. He turns around. The skin around his eyes is torn from crying, and an unmistakable exhaustion is painting his face. “Elu'meniel mal alann.”, you say to him, trying to calm him down, and he asks huskily “...what does that mean?” - “May peace calm your heart.” - “Nice words.” - “Where do you want to bury them?” - “At the river. The river between Suncrown Village and Tranquillien, close to the place where I saved your life. She would've loved the river... and my son as well.” You nod and take off your cape, and you two wrap the remains in it carefully.  
After the hour-long ride with a short stop at the tower, you bury the skeletons and spend a few minutes in silence. Eventually, Evan pulls a large, flat stone from the river, takes a knife and carves words in Orcish.

This is the final rest for  
Amelia and Victor Sagar  
Family of Evan Jawless  
Died during the Plaque in Lordaeron,  
Raised, suffered beneath the Scourge  
and crushed at the Gates of Quel'Thalas.  
May peace calm your hearts.

You knell besides him at the grave of his family and plant a few blood red flowers, a symbol for the spilt and for love as well. Mistral sits next to you, spending warmth without a word. You keep silent, until he stands up and raises his voice:  
“Hereby, I, Evan Jawless, formerly Sagar, swear I won't rest until I avenged the two of you. I promise. I will help Arthas make pay, for every second you may have lived.” With that, he bows before the grave. “Are you coming, ____?” You smile. “Yes. Back to the Undercity?” Evan nods. You ride over to Fairbreeze Village to take a Dragonhawk from there. “Evan?” - “Yes?” - “This is where she died. In this village.” He pats your shoulder, and upon arriving in Silvermoon, night is already falling, and Mistral yawns. “____? Do you want to stay here overnight?” You think for a moment. “I don't see why not.” He nods, and after you get the directions from a city guard, you go to the Inn. You rent a room, while the Forsaken gets something to eat. You take a seat and eat. “Should I take Mistral to sleep at my room?” - “If that's alright. I will roam the forests a bit tonight.” You nod. “Take care of yourself.” - “Always. Good night.” With that, he takes his leave, and you can fully understand he'd rather be alone right now. You stroke Mistral's head subconsciously, and he purrs softly. “Shall we, Mistral?” The lynx gets up, and you head to the room and sleep, you dreaming of a blonde General with blue eyes.  
In the next morning, Evan is waiting down in the Inn, and as you head out, your horses already stand there. You go to Lor'themar, who bids his farewell, same as Halduron and Rommath.  
Back in Undercity, Evan suddenly starts talking. “When I wandered through the Eversong Woods yesterday evening, I noticed the rangers. And Anya mentioned their abilities quite often... I would like to know whether they're really that skilled.” - “Is that a challenge, Jawless?”, you grin. “You can rely on that.” he grins back. “Tomorrow, after your lessons. In front of the gates of the city. Think of something to do.” You smile towards him. “You will lose, Jawless.” - “We will see...” He calls Mistral and the both of them vanish in the Tirisfal Glades, while you head in town and ask for Vallia in the Apothecarium, who is ready to continue your lessons. She dismisses you with the words: “Very good. A week, two at most, and you're officially able to speak Gutterspeak.” You grin and leave the room, before strolling around the city.  
You remember you may visit Brill again. Said and done. And before you even know, Executor Zygand orders you to kill some Crusaders who apparently had the thought of attacking one of the waystations, making their guards send a cry for help. A few of the Deathguards accompany you, and soon after you're battling the Crusade again. With your aid, the mission of the Scarlets is beaten quickly, and some Crusaders are unconsciously brought to the Undercity as test objects. “You are a good leader, ranger.”, says one of the holders of the station. “Thank you.”, you reply, and ride back to Brill alongside your troops, where you are praised a lot by Zygand. After a few talks to your acquaintances in Brill, you dash back to the Undercity. It's evening already, and you've gotten the perfect idea for your contest with Evan. You eat in the Inn, head up to your room, take a bath, polish your own bow for tomorrow and lie down.  
Your night is plagued by nightmares. You face death – not your own, but the one Sylvanas had. Her torture, her pain. Forced to kill those who were her people. And then she turns to you, hate in her eyes, hands stretched out for you, ready to bring death. You're unable to wake up, unable to move, unable to do anything besides watching Sylvanas' incorporeal form, coming closer with the desire to kill.  
“Wake up, ____. It is just a dream.” The voice sounds gentle, real, and you cling onto it as if it were a rope pulling you from the dream. “Come here.” Cool lips touch your forehead, and the dream vanishes, replaced by a black image full of calmness. “You're doing good. Now go back to sleep, ____.”, the voice whispers, and as you get a light kiss on your cheek, you glide away into the peacefulness of a dreamless sleep.  
At sunrise, you wonder if the visit of Sylvanas Windrunner was only another dream, before you head to breakfast and learn after that. Vallia only talks Gutterspeak during the lessons now, and lauds you regularly.  
After the lessons, you go up to your room to get bow and arrows, and then in front of the town, where Evan is waiting, but no Mistral. “Where's your lynx?” - “I thought rangers usually don't have animals. He's in town and groomed from head to toe. What did you think of?” You nod. “Small animals, especially those infected with the plague. They're moving and very small, so they make difficult targets. We meet on the island on Brightwater Lake in an hour. Who has hit more targets by then, wins and the loser has to pay for dinner. Alright?” The Hunter smirks, challenging. “Good luck~!” - “To you as well.” Without further words he vanishes in the forest, and you run in another direction.  
An hour later, you count 27 hits, and emerge from the lake, soaking. The abilities of a ranger include being tough against nature, after all. You hear a light splash and turn around. “Ah, there you are, E-”  
All words get stuck in your throat as it is not a dripping wet Evan, but a dripping wet Sylvanas standing in front of you. Water runs out of her wet hair and over her body, her clothes sticking to her skin, and you get aware of how red you must be right now. A slight mischievous glint sparks in those red eyes. “I had taken a break when I heard of your challenge with Jawless. I took part in it.” You bow. “What an honour.”  
Another splash sounds. “____! Time for payoff! I-”He nearly chokes on his words, and his eyes almost fall from his head before he bows deeply. “My lady. I wasn't aware you'd be-” - “Rise, Jawless. I took part in your challenge.” You turn to him. “Meaning the both of us can forget a possible free dinner.” Turning back to Sylvanas, you don't miss the smug look in her eyes. “How many?”, you ask Evan. “18. They were impossibly fast.” You nod. “27.”, declaring your number. Expecting, your gaze turns towards the Banshee Queen, as well as your friend's. “49.” - “Forty- good grief! The 'best archer of Azeroth' indeed seems to be true, ____.” You grimace. “What do you wish to eat, my Lady?” She waves it away. “I don't eat anymore... not really. I was in the mood for some amusement, but I've got to go back to the city now.” - “Were you pleased, at least?” She nods shortly. “If not, I would've left. Jawless?” - “Yes, my lady?” - “You did well, but you seem to handle it better with animals.” - “Yes... thank you, nonetheless.” He bows down deeply, and her eyes shine with amusement. “______.” - “Yes?” - “Come to my office after you've eaten.” - “As you wish.” You bow lightly, and the Queen takes a Hearthstone from her pocket and teleports back to her city.  
“Belore.” you say as the only commentary. Evan nudges you with his elbow and wiggles what's left of his eyebrows. Then he whistles, appreciating. “Really. I can understand what you find so appealing about her.” You hit his arm. He grins shortly. “Come. You won, when it's broken down to the both of us, so I'll pay dinner. Let's go back. We don't want to keep your lover waiting, after all.” You roll your eyes, and head back to town, where you change into some dry clothes before your meal. Evan is waiting with a plate of fried bat wings. You smile slightly and sit down to eat. “Thanks, Evan.”, you state when you are finished. “No big deal. And off you go to your Dark Lady, she's waiting for sure.” He winks. “She isn't 'my' Dark Lady. But see you later. Give my regards to Mistral.” He laughs. “I will.” With that, you leave the Inn. The Dreadguards let you in without hesitation, and after a while, you stand in front of the massive door. This time, you knock for yourself.  
“State name and business.”, it sounds shortly from inside. “You wished to see me, my lady.” - “Come in, ranger.” You slip through the door and bow. “Take a seat.” You sit down on the chair again. “You have eaten, I hope?” - “Yes. Evan- I mean, Jawless, has gotten me something.” She nods, before she gets up and paces through the room. “I heard several reports concerning you. Your calmness when Anya killed the Scarlet lovers.” - she laughs lowly and dark - “Your willing help at the waystation, and in the end, your leadership qualities there. Admittedly, I am impressed how much you've done for my people and that they regard you with exalt, after such a short time... due to this reason, I have decided to give you the rank and title of a Dark Ranger.” You are speechless as you glide from the chair, kneel in front of the queen and lower your head. “I am honoured.” You look into her eyes. She stands infront of you, smiling slightly, then she holds out her hand for you. You lower your lips to the ring on her finger, but keep your eyes focused on hers, before letting go of her hand a millisecond later than it's usual. Then, you lower your head. “Hereby, I pledge my loyalty to Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken and Dark Lady of Lordaeron. My abilities may be yours, my life given to you and your wish my command.” Her hand is placed on top of your head. “I accept your oath, Dark Ranger ____. Rise.” You stand up and bow. “Go to Clea, she should be in the Trade Quarter. She'll get you fitting clothes. After that, report back to me.” You bow again. “As you wish, my lady.” She nods, and you view yourself as dismissed.  
In the Trade Quarter, you spot one of the Dark Rangers talking to the mushroom farmer and wait respectfully until she's finished. She senses you wish to talk to her and strides over. “Yes?”, she asks. “Sylvanas is sending me. She's as-” - “Aaah, I understand. No further word, I know what's going on. Follow me.” She leads you to a building in the style of thalassian architecture, just looking way more robust and dark, and stays on the ground floor. There is a room stuffed with armour, weapons and cloaks of the Dark Rangers. “Here we are... now you'll only need a fitting armour. I can't fully clothe you like one of us, since you are missing an important thing... yet I will do my best for you to fit in yet not, do you understand?” You nod. “Good. Hmmm... your armour may be dark blue and grey, what do you think?” - “Why not.” She gets a set in these colours, looking very nice. “Now there's only the coat left... I'm reluctant to take black...” She takes out a dark brown one. “No. Definitely no.” Black, but with a shimmer of green. “Ooooooooh no.” Black with a shimmer of blue. “Hmmm... still not perfect.” The next cloak she takes is almost black. More of a grey waking the memory of a clouded night sky, only having a dull shine. “Perfect. Try it on, then!” With that, she leaves you alone in the room, and you un- and redress quickly. Looking at the mirror, you seem exactly like she wished. A Dark Ranger, yet not. “Clea? You can come back in.” She enters, and nods approvingly. “Perfect. You can keep your weapons. And now report back to Sylvanas, alright?” - “Yes. Thank you.” She waves it aside. “No big deal.”  
You walk back through the Undercity, and the undead seem to look at you with even more awe. Others look at you, surprised. Another some turn away. It puzzles you a bit, but surely there are some conservatives here not fond of the idea having someone alive within the Dark Rangers. Soon after, you stand in front of Sylvanas doors and knock. “Come in.” Smiling lightly, you enter the room, and looking at you, the sheet Sylvanas held falls from her hands. “...You'll be based in the Undercity, for now. But it may be you'll get orders taking you outside.” You nod. “Now that that's sorted out...”, she rubs her forehead and looks exhausted for a moment. “Is everything alright?”, you ask softly, worried. She raises her head and locks her red orbs on you. “Yes.”, but she still looks strained. “My lady. As your vassal, I am concerned for your well-being.” - “I said everything is fine!” But she still doesn't sound convincing. You move around the table in a swift motion and lean onto her chair. “Sylvanas. Please. Nothing will be done if you overwork yourself.” Looking into her eyes, there's nothing more you wish to do than kiss her right now. “What's the matter?” She sighs. “The Scourge and the Crusade. I'm in need of more forces than I have. As soon as things on one line are sorted, the other steps into action...”  
You don't know what overtakes you, but suddenly, the queen is in your tight embrace. To your surprise, cold arms wrap around you and keep you in place firmly. A slight smile creeps on your face. It's amusing she had to die so that you could finally build the courage to do that. After a short while, she lets go and pushes you away gently, an unreadable expression in her face as if she doesn't know what she should be feeling right now. You smile shortly, unsure, and after a second, she smiles back. “Thank you...”, she says calmly. “It was an honour for me.” She nods. “I expect you to...”, she makes a short break, “that you move into the barracks of the Dark Rangers.” - “Sure. If that's your wish, my lady.” She smiles lightly. “You don't have to use the title anymore. We're even in Dark Ranger ranks, and I'm one of them as well.” - “...oh... I guess I'm used to it. I called you with titles most of my life.” She waves it aside. “Get used to that now. And now head to Cyndia... she shall give you a room in the barracks, which is where she should be.” You bow again and turn around to leave. “By the way, ____?” - “Yes?” - “You look... good. Clea did an impressive job.” - “Thank you, m-...” you silence and she smiles slightly, then you walk to the Inn to pay, get your things and leave, and then to the barracks, where you find the Dark Ranger you were tasked to look for, and then Cyndia showing your room to you, within styles from Quel'Thalas and Undercity are mixed. “Thank y-” - “SHUT up and listen. You may look like one of us and have our title, but you're far from being one of us.”, she interrupts you, an ugly glimmer in her eye not fitting her face at all, before she turns and rushes away. You shrug and make yourself a home. What advantages would there be from trying to convince her?  
“Don't worry, she'll pull herself together.”, a familiar voice says from the door. “Anya?” She smirks, slightly uncomfortable. “Cyndia's always been a bit quirky, but I'd have never expected her to do something like this...” - “I suspect me joining your ranks isn't seen to... sensible from all sides?” Anya nods. “Yes. A few will have their challenges accepting you. But I won't, and Clea likes you as well, I guess... and they will, sooner or later. No matter that she's one of us, Sylvanas still is our queen and if she says you're one of us as well, we have to accept that.” - “I understand...” - “Don't worry. Most of them won't care anyway. Prove yourself a few times, then they'll swallow their pride, trust me.” You smile. “I think I'll go search Evan now.”, you grin, and she chuckles.  
You meet him at the Inn, discussing wildly with Norman. “What does that mean, she isn't here anymore? Tomorrow morning, she-” - “Two of the Dark Rangers took her things a while ago and paid. I would ask the one standing behind you, she was one of them.” Angrily, your friend spins around to you and his eyes narrow. “Where is ____?”, he hisses dangerously, and you laugh. He looks at you, shocked. “Wait a sec... ____?!” You grin. “I look good, don't I?” He scratches the back of his head embarrassedly and chuckles. “Indeed you do. I almost wouldn't have noticed... You've got to have been advanced! Congratulations!” - “Thank you, my friend.” A purr sounds behind you and something soft rubs your leg. “Oh, hello Mistral – belore, you look great!” His fur is shining, his claws almost blink and his little mane has been combed and messed up in a good-looking chaos afterwards. You tickle behind his ear and he purrs again before rubbing against his master's legs and rubbing his muzzle at his hand. “He never did that prior.” - “No... but he does now. I think his treatment helped him accept the fact I'm dead.”, the hinter states and grins. “I just wanted to see you again before going to bed... I'm living with the other Dark Rangers now, if you look for me.” - Honestly, I have no idea where that may be.” - “Then follow me.”, you say, and take him over to the building. “Where... I don't see anything here.” - “Interesting... but sensible, I never noticed this building beforehand... well, we'll continue meeting at the Inn then, alright?” He nods. “Good night, ____.” - “Good night, Evan. And Mistral.”  
With that, you go into the barracks, and sleep soon after.


	6. Chapter 6

During the next weeks, you get used to your new duties. Some of the Dark Rangers, especially Cyndia, constantly ignore you and refuse to accept your presence. Most of them indeed don't care, and Anya stays your friend among them. Clea isn't a bad company either. One of them is with you when you're out on a mission, and you get to know it's that way because you're in training, technically seen. The dark arts that are a part of being a Dark Ranger won't come from your hands, but you try to replace them as good as you can with the arts of a ranger. Evan is still there for you, but he trains somewhere else occasionally. You can't blame him for that. The Dark Rangers also help you with Gutterspeak, and soon after Vallia dismisses you completely from her courses. “You talk like a Forsaken, ____. Still have a slight accent though, but that may vanish someday. You were an excellent student.” You bow. “It was my honour, Vallia. Thank you.” She smiles. “Nothing to thank for... Dark Ranger.” With that, she smiles shortly and walk over to the other Apothecaries. After a few moments of thinking, you decide for paying a visit to Sylvanas.  
Standing in front of the massive wooden door, you knock, and as soon as you hear “Come in.”, you enter the office. “____? What is it?”, she asks in Thalassian, and with a slight smirk you answer in the language of her – and now, probably also your – people. “Vallia said she won't continue my lessons in Gutterspeak since she can't teach me more.” An amused look creeps over her face. “I'm pleased to hear that. Took you long enough.”You smile and accept that as a compliment. “I'm asking myself, why is it you always manage to come here in the moment I wish to talk to you anyway?” You shrug. “I don't know, my lady.” - “Sylvanas.” You smile, a little embarrassed. “Right... Sylvanas. Why is it you wanted to talk to me?” She waves you closer and points to a map of the Tirisfal Glades. “The Agamand Mills. The Scourge activity increased rapidly over there. I want you to investigate there.” - “Alone?” She nods. “About time you got your first single mission.” A happy smile takes over your face. “I won't disappoint you.” She smiles. “I do hope that. Now go. I expect a report once you are back.” - “You'll get it.” Her red eyes glint in an amused way, and in this moment, the General can be seen without doubt. She is still inside, with absolute certainty. It's just hard to make her be seen. You wave your hand at her and head out of the office, a smile painting your face while you head to the stables.  
When Lyn is saddled and ready, you dash towards the mills atop of him, placing him at a waystation close by and walk the rest with the same caution you had every time back when you were on your way to the Windrunner Spire. The closer you get, the more frequently you look for a cover, and the last distance you move in the treetops only. There, not hidden in the shadows like the other Dark Rangers, but fused with nature complied with it, you wait and watch. The Scourge is quite active indeed over there. Undead without any own will shamble the grounds, between the destroyed houses. The only question is why. You persevere further, since patience is the biggest trait here as well as in so many tasks the rangers of Silvermoon had to do. After a while, you spot a humanoid creature looking like the commander, since it differs from all the others in clothing, walk and simply attitude. He is ordering the undead, that's clearly to be seen for you. You commit his looks into your memory to be able to tell later. You are not certain why he is here... but when the Scourge decided to send a commander, it has to be important. You curse not being able to step into the shadows like the other Dark Rangers for the first time. This slack report will be everything you'll be able to offer Sylvanas later. A slight sigh escapes your lips, and you move away through the trees after you took some time to gather additional information for embroidering your report. Back at the waystation, you get your horse and ride back to the capital. Upon arriving, night has fallen, and on your way to Sylvanas' office, you hear an aggravated voice – Cyndia.  
“... tolerate that this-” - “My order was distinct! She is one of the Dark Rangers, and you will accept that!” - “She is not one of us! There are certain differences no one will be able to overlook!” - “You. Will. Accept. ____.” Sylvanas voice is colder than you ever heard. “Your feelings are fogging your mind, Banshee.”, Cyndia says sharply, and judging the following silence, it is clear that there'll be serious consequences for her. “As a Dark Ranger, you should be able to hold your tongue. That seems not to be the case.” From Sylvanas' office, a shaking Cyndia steps backward, clearly visible she noticed her mistake. “Please... I meant...” - “Cyndia... I'm afraid you forgot where your place is. I think some time in the dungeons will teach you where you stand.” You can almost feel the ice in Sylvanas' voice, and a shiver runs through your body as you see her advancing towards Cyndia, fury on her features. You have a choice – defend the Dark Ranger or let her face her judgement. Sighing, you hope for more acceptance due to the first option and step forward.  
“Sylvanas.”, you say quietly, and the face of your queen turns towards you. The coldness is replaced by something else. “____. You're back.” You nod. “I know Cyndia made a mistake, but I can understand her. I'm no 'real' Dark Ranger, and her pride keeps her from acceptance... but please don't put her in the dungeons. I'm not worth that much.” The look in the eyes of the Dark Lady softens before becoming hard again. “I'm not punishing her for her opinion, ____, but because she openly disobeyed me. And for that-” - “A week-long stay in the dungeons is not appropriate.”, you cut her off, and grimace on the inside because of that mistake. Her eyes widening shows she also noticed that, but she sighs. “... you made a mistake interrupting me, but due to the fact you did it to try defending someone who doesn't deserve this from your point of view, I will let that go.”, she states calmly. “This time.”, she adds with a sharp undertone, and you lower your head, slightly ashamed. “I beg your forgiveness.” She nods shortly, then turns to the Dark Ranger ahead of her. “Alright. You'll be stationed in the Plaguelands during the next two weeks. That should calm you down. Take a bat to the Bulwark and report there to get a place you'll be staying at. Understood?” Cyndia nods shortly and rises, before she storms off. Sylvanas looks after her with an unreadable expression before turning towards you.  
“Since that is solved now, come in. I'm still expecting a report.” You see her eyebrow twitch as if she wanted to wink but decided differently, and follow her into the office with a gentle smile, closing the door behind you. “... I'm afraid I can't say much beside you should have sent a 'real' Dark Ranger. I couldn't get any concrete information. Besides from who's the commander and how many there are.” She nods, interested. “I didn't want anything more right now.” You describe the look of the the leader and how many Scourge you counted – and guessed adding to that. She writes something on a piece of paper. “You did a good job. Before these troops get to be a real problem, I'll send someone to take care of them. I want this bastard's head.” You raise an eyebrow. “Do you know him?” - “Ephemeral. He is cruel and his death will be a wound for the Scourge.” A vengeful smile creeps on her face. “He called himself Nicholas Foulsword, I think...” She shrugs and calls for a guard, who appears in her office soon after. “My lady?” - “Get this to Nathanos. Tell him I want this one's head in less than a week... oh, and that he shall take Evan Jawless along with him.” The guard bows, takes the paper from Sylvanas' hand and leaves. “Evan? Why is it he shall go there?” - “I want to make him a Lieutenant for the Forsaken Hunters. He has it on himself to handle that, I saw that... during our competition.”, she says and winks for real this time. A slight blush covers your cheeks, and Sylvanas chuckles. “Nathanos should be a good paradigm for him.” You smile. “He will feel honoured.” She nods, and silence follows. A few times, her lips move as if she's about to say something but decides differently then. Finally, she supports her head with one hand and lays the other one on the desk before her. You smile gently and place yours atop it. She lifts her gaze and and her red orbs pierce yours, before she turns her hand around and holds yours.  
The moment gets interrupted suddenly when fast, heavy steps are heard on the corridor and you spin around, while Sylvanas stands up. A hard knock sounds, and to Sylvanas annoyed “What is it?”, an Orc steps in, dressed in a messenger's attire. “Lady Sylvanas, Warchief Thrall wishes to see you in Orgrimmar to discuss the thing with the Scourge.” The Dark Lady nods. “Tell him I will be coming.” The Orc lowers his head and leaves. Sylvanas' eyes have narrowed to slits. “Maybe this Orc finally decides to carry this war to Northrend.” You look at her thoughtfully. “____. You will be accompanying me in Orgrimmar.” - “As you wish.” She smiles. “Pack your things, then meet me in the Magic Quarter.” You nod and head to the barracks, getting some things you will need. Then, you start your way to the Magic Quarter, where you meet Evan. “____! You won't believe it! The Blightcaller himself wishes me to be with him during the attack on Agamands Mills!” Mistral purrs confirming, and you grin. “I was with Sylvanas as she gave the order.” He smiles. “That's good. But yet... what an honour!” - “Our Lady has something planned for you, my friend. But I won't say a word.”, you say with a wink. He squinshes up his face shortly, but then smiles again. “Where are you headed to?” - “Sylvanas. She was called to Orgrimmar by Thrall – Scourge meeting. I shall accompany her.” - “What an honour! Have fun, ____.” - “You both as well. See you soon! Try not to die!” He grins. “Try not to be too loud.” - “EVAN!” He laughs. “Dark Lady watch over you. Personally, I hope.” - “You too.” He turns around and walks on, and you run the rest of the way to the Magic Quarter, where the Dark Lady is waiting with a small escort in front of a portal. “Have you got everything?” You nod. “Good. Have you been to Orgrimmar yet?” - “Shortly. Not very long.” - “Then stay close to me.” - “Alyways.” She smiles, and you walk through the portal together. The heat of the town is like a hit compared to the Undercity, and one of the Mages performs a spell to prevent the bodies of the undead from drying out. Sylvanas grimaces. “I loathe the heat of this place.” You nod. It certainly isn't comfortable, as imposing as this city may be. Some of the inhabitants lower their heads when the Banshee Queen walks by, others look at her, mistrust clearly visible in their eyes. She seemingly doesn't care for this looks at all. Some gazes are locked on you as well, blank of any confidence, and without knowing, you walk closer to Sylvanas. “Ignore them. My people always get these looks.”, the queen whispers, and you nod hardly detectable. The route to Grommash Hold is short, and the escort stops in front of it. Sylvanas comes to a halt as well. “Stay close to the fortress. I'll be back soon.” You lower your head. “Yes, Take care of yourself.”, the end slips past your lips, and she smiles slightly. “You too.” With that, she turns away and walks into the hold, with undoubtedly all the other Horde leaders waiting inside, whose escorts you're able to spot as well. You want to find a group of Blood Elves, but can't find them, even after some minutes of searching. Weird...  
So you keep content with strolling around the city, but remembering the way. At a street merchant, you buy a map of the place. In the Valley of Spirits, you meet a familiar looking Troll. “Kuuji?”, you ask. “Duuuude, you scared me. Who're you? How d'ya know me?” - “I am ____ ______. Do you re-” - “______! Dude, I really thought ya'd be a creepy Dark Whatchamacallit. Glad ya're still alive tho.” He grins. “Look good, I'll leave ya to that.” - “Thank you, Kuuji. And also thank you for saving my life.” - “No big deal, was a pleasure. Wanna eat something?” - “Why not? I-” Suddenly, a horn echoes through the city. “What's that?”, you ask surprised. “Hmmm... Mak'gora. Two seem to wanna beat 'emthelves up a lil.” He grins. “Wanna come along? I'll get ya to the arena.” You nod. “Get up.”, he says, before shapeshifting into a stag and bending down. You pull onto his back and he dashes to the arena. There, you dismount and he shifts back, goes in at your side. You let your gaze wander across the crowd, and spot Sylvanas on a gallery located directly atop the battling ground. She seems to be scanning the crowd as well – is she looking for you? You keep your gaze locked on her, until her red orbs find yours. A slight smile appears on her face and she nods. You nod back.  
Another horn resonates, and Garrosh Hellscream – an Orc you only heard whispers about – as well as Thrall himself enter the sand stomped between the feet of many fighters. After a short exchange of words, they let loose, without weapons, dressed only in loincloths. Beat after beat lands, not clearly visible who's having the upper hand. The crowd cheers, thirsting for blood. But the battle comes to an abrupt stop when a shadow darkens the sky for a moment. You turn your gaze upward, but cannot spot anything. A horn sounds, and it is a signal. Kuuji pales.  
“An attack! We're under attack!” You look back to the sky, and see a Frost Wyrm fly by. “THE SCOURGE!”, you scream as a warning. A look up to the gallery shows Sylvanas is aiming her bow for the undead dragon. She lets go and the arrow flies – piercing the skull of the Wyrm, who lets out a cry and falls down into the arena. Thrall and Garrosh are not to be seen any more. Around you, the full chaos erupts, when everyone storms to the exits, willing to defend their city. Kuuji grimaces and shifts into a bat, then garbs your arm and pulls you up. Surprised, you hold onto him, and with some effort, he flies to the gallery and places you next to Sylvanas. Then, he shifts into the Troll again. “Here. For ya not to get squish'd. Good luck.” - “I'm in your debt, Kuuji.” He grins. “Maybe I'll remember ya to that one day. It's alright for the time bein'.” He turns into the bat again and takes off, out of the arena. Sylvanas looks at you. “Glad you're here.”, she says shortly, and without further words, you storm out. Chaos is ruling over the city, the Scourge is everywhere. Sylvanas starts chanting, and soon after, some skeletons stand around her, whom she orders on the Scourge, while her arrows kill one after the other. You're not standing around yourself, switching between bow and close combat to fight, but always stay close to the Dark Lady. You feel remembered to that one day where you were in a similar situation – with just two living blood elves, one of them being a General, fighting the Scourge.  
As sudden as the attack started, it's over again. The Scourge troops who didn't retreat are killed fast and precisely.  
In the end of the day, one thing is sure: The Horde will go to Northrend. And you'll be a part of that forces.  
“I really can't get you to stay in the Undercity?”, Sylvanas asks silently when you're back in the city of the dead. “No. It's too important for that – and why even do you want me to stay?” She smiles painfully and keeps the answer from you. “I will have to go to Silvermoon to convince Lor'themar to come with us... we'll need him. Do you want to go with me?” You nod, unsure of what to do. She smiles slightly. “Then come. But leave the talking to me.” Together with a new escort, you take the Translocation Orb, and stand in the Inner Sanctum soon after. The Blood Elf guards look shocked at the Dark Lady next to you, as well as yourself and the Dreadguards. “I wish to speak to the Reagent Lord.”, the queen says in a piercing voice, and immediately, one of the guards takes off. She rolls her eyes and waits. Silently, you stand next to her, until you hear steps that seem to be the only sound aside of your breath, but you doubt that can be heard far.  
Lor'themar, flanked by Halduron and Rommath, enters the hall. He looks fatigued, as if he's had something exhausting behind him. He takes a moment to look at Sylvanas, and you're able to understand him. Shortly, his eyes set on you, but you can't see anything inside but grief – as so many else, he seems to think of you as a Dark Ranger only, and to be honest, that's alright that way.  
“What brings you to Silvermoon, Sylvanas?” he asks. “I have just returned from Orgrimmar,” she replies. “Arthas has dared to strike at the heart of the Horde.” The Banshee Queen pauses for a moment and seems to scrutinise his face. “The attack was successfully repelled,” she continues. “But Arthas is only toying with us—we must bring the war to him. Warchief Thrall at last sees what we have long known.” Her eyes glitter with a dangerous eagerness, and you can understand her fully. “The Horde prepares for war. And the Sin'dorei, Lor'themar, constitute a portion of the Horde.”  
The Reagent Lord remains silent, and seems to look even more exhausted than he did already. “Lor'themar. We go to destroy Arthas—once and for all.”, Sylvanas adds, but he shakes his head. Finally, he replies. “I appreciate that you and Warchief Thrall wish us to join you on the initial front in Northrend. But we are stretched too thin. We have already received a similar request from the Kirin Tor, but I cannot in good faith send our forces north. Since the events at Quel'Danas—“ - “This is not a request, Lor'themar,“ she interrupts. Her eyes flash red in anger. „You will send troops. They will accompany the Forsaken.“  
“Sylvanas,” Lor'themar says quietly, “we have just fought a civil war. What can we possibly have to give?” It's definitely not the answer she wants to hear, and her ears twitch shortly before she continues to talk, voice sharp.  
“Have you forgotten who is responsible for the state of Quel'Thalas in the first place? Who is ultimately to blame? “ She takes a short break to wait if he says something, but he doesn't. “Well, I, at least, have not! My vengeance will not be denied, and you will give what I demand of you: the sin'dorei rangers and magi, as well as the Blood Knights.” - “We cannot spare them, Sylvanas.” Her lips curl into a sneer. “Then you can hide here like a beaten dog if that is indeed your will, Lor'themar. Though if you believe anything can come from it, you are a fool. Do you think Arthas will be content to ignore you whilst you wait here and lick your wounds? Do you think I will tolerate such cowardice? I would warn you: those who do not stand with the Forsaken stand against them. And those who stand against the Forsaken will not stand long.” Again, she takes a break, and the way you know her as the Dark Lady, nothing comfortable is to follow. But she has a reason for it, finally wanting to avenge her death.  
“For a while now my people have stood guard in these lands, and it is by my hand that you have any place within the Horde. You will aid us in Northrend, or I shall cease to aid you in Quel'Thalas.” You grimace. He has no choice left anymore, he needs those troops. You have seen how they help in the Ghostlands, and know without doubt the Blood Elves are dependant on them. You feel sorry for the Reagent Lord, and he laughs humourlessly.  
„Send my exhausted people to find more death in Northrend, or risk losing Quel'Thalas to the Scourge once again. There is no choice here, Sylvanas.” The Banshee Queen eyes him dispassionately, and you know she has won already. “I will expect your forces at the Undercity in two weeks, Lor'themar.” she replies. “I will not be disappointed in this.” - “Yes, my lady.” She gives you a sign and turns to leave. As much as you want to help Lor'themar, even less you want to wake her fury.  
“How can you do this?”, Rommath almost screams, anger in his voice. “This is blackmail!”, he continues, “It was you who pleaded to aid us in the first place! We never asked for your assistance; you gave it of your own free will! How can you call yourselves our allies in one breath and hold our lands for ransom in the next?”  
Sylvanas turns around and considers him a moment, somehow managing to look down upon him though he is taller than she – one of her abilities she already brought to perfection when she was General. Her voice is cold when she replies. “You were never required to accept my offers. You chose to. All I ask for now is the will and power to defeat our greatest foe.”  
Rommath glared at her in sheer hatred, but Lor'themar's voice keeps him from another tirade.  
“Is there anything else you wish to discuss, Sylvanas?” His voice sounds defeated, almost abject. “No. I am finished here, Lor'themar..” - “Shorel'aran, Sylvanas.”, he says. Her eyes flash shortly, but she doesn't say another word, but leaves. You follow her back to the Translocation Orb, when Halduron rises his voice. “Wait!” She turns back. “Who is the Dark Ranger?”, he asks, dangerously low, and you grimace. “Go. Come to me when you're finished here.”, the Dark Lady says coldly, before continuing to go up with her Dreadguards. You jump down from the small gallery and land in front of Halduron, who can only spot green eyes beneath the hood – the eyes of a Blood Elf, not a Dark Ranger. “What- who- you're ALIVE!”, he cries out, at the latest when he notices your breath. “Yes, Halduron.”, you state simply. “Wait... ____?!” You take off the hood. “What are you doing here? Why the hell have you said nothing? Do you know what you could have changed?” You smile uncomfortably. “I'm very sorry for you all... but I pledged my loyalty to Sylvanas. I'm officially counting as a Dark Ranger.” Pain flares up in the eyes of the new General. “I understand...” - “I'm sorry, but I couldn't have changed anything. She is set on her revenge, and who may blame her for that? He killed and slaughtered her people.” Rommath joins the conversation furiously. “WE are not HER people anymore, same as SHE is not a part of OUR people anymore.” - “But we share an enemy here... don't forget, it was because of him that you had this civil war in the end.” - “So you are on her side.” You nod slowly. Lor'themar begins as well. “Let her be, the both of you. It is her decision whom her loyalty belongs to... and she has always loved Sylvanas, s-” - “LOR'THEMAR!”, you yell, frustrated, and he grins despite the fatigue in his eyes.”It was obvious. And now, please leave.” With a red face, you pull up your hood again and head out of the hall. Undercity is waiting for you.  
Sylvanas is in her throne room, and when you stand in front of her, she smiles slightly. “Come with me.”, she states and goes for her office, you on her heels. “You will secure a base for us in the Howling Fjord together with some other Dark Rangers. And then... we will see.” You nod. “Ah, Sylvanas?”, you ask softly. “Hm?” - “Was it really necessary to be that hard to Lor'themar?” She looks thoughtful. “It was effective. That's what counts.” - “Would you really have subtracted your forces?” She makes sure the door is closed before she goes on talking. “A major part of them, yes. But I would have left them enough to hold the Ghostlands. They were my people... and as much as they've changed, they still mean something.” You smile. Then you take a step forward and hug her. Surprised, she keeps her balance, before locking her arms around you. “We're closer to our revenge...”, you whisper, tears in your eyes, and hear a dark chuckle in her chest. “Yes. Arthas will pay. He will pay for everything.”


	7. Chapter 7

The preparations for the Northrend campaign run without bigger incidences, and on the day of departure, you go up on the ship named 'Windrunner' together with Evan who advanced to Lieutenant in the time. Even Mistral is ready for the adventure, growling expectantly. The lynx is wearing a light leather armour on his head, neck, torso and legs. His claws are strengthened with metal. He looks like a war lynx. On the deck, you regard Sylvanas who stands there to bid farewell. “Come on.”, the Hunter urges, “At least kiss her cheek.” You are bright red. He pokes your shoulder. “Go on. Do it. Who knows, maybe you won't see her in a while? Maybe, you'll die? Maybe-” You don't hear the rest since you hop off the ship and run over to Sylvanas. “What's the matter, ____?”, she asks, puzzled, and you take her hand and pull her into a forsaken building in the harbour. There, you close the door and pull her towards you. “I will miss you, Sylvanas.”, you mumble, and when you feel her hands on your back, you smile. “I... Me too.”, she says with a pressed voice. Actually, you want to kiss her, but keep control over yourself, lift yourself up and kiss her cool cheek. “Shorel'aran.”, you whisper gently. “Al diel shala.”, she replies softly while looking into your eyes, and kisses your forehead, before you pull away from her and rush back aboard the ship. You ignore Evan's eyebrow, and none of his comments can compare to the joy you feel inside.

The Northrend campaign is a lot, but exhausting for the most part. After you helped the Forsaken secure Vengeance Landing and from that, the Howling Fjord, the Warsong Hold needed your hand, then the Taunka, the Dragon Aspects, and so many more. The Scourge was everywhere, everytime, and always a danger. You were constantly under attack, but you and Evan fused into a wonderful team, and Mistral got brilliant in close combat. But this hard work had paid off – the expeditions, together with the Argent Crusade and the Knights of the Ebon Blade, have finally reached Icecrown.  
Due to various injuries, you couldn't take part in the Battle at the Wrathgate, and according to reports, it had been better that way. Fuming with rage, you had at least wanted to be in the Battle for Undercity, but the Healers kept you in the city when you'd stolen away from the infirmary, limping. You weren't able to be at Sylvanas' side in that hour, and, to be honest, you were still outraged by that. The only satisfaction you got was hearing about the death of the Nathrezim, and also of the traitorous filth Putress.  
You spend a lot of time in Dalaran, making preparations for another attack on the Citadel. Even if some inhabitants still eye you conspiciously due to Varimathras' treason, you have fought for and earned respect. Evan is at your side, and Mistral pacing around the both of you. Surprising, you meet a Dark Ranger wandering the city. Shrugging, you walk over to her and greet.  
“Hello, Vorel. What are you doing here?” - “Ah, ____. Good to see you. And Lieutenant Jawless as well. I must have a word! Sylvanas has uncovered a hole in the defenses of Icecrown Citadel into a place she referred to as "The Forge of Souls." She sent word before she left for me to find fierce fighters to send her way. I think you'll do. Go to her within the entrance to the forge, if I may ask you to do that.” You smile due to the view to see the Dark Lady again.”Sure. Evan, what do you think?” - “Count me in. That's going to be fun.” He grins devilishly. “Vorel, will you come along?” She nods. “The others are probably waiting already, I only stayed to look whether I may find you two.” You smile. Together, you head over to Krasus Landing and take Hippogryphs to where she is. Without attracting unwanted attention, you fly in the shadow of the Citadel, and even though it is the fortress of the enemy, it is a imposing place. You land at a small camp, where a few Death Knights and Argent Crusaders are. You nod towards them, and some of them choose to accompany you. Together, you enter the Forge, revenge in your thoughts.  
When you see Sylvanas standing in a corner, you can almost not control yourself, but because of her reputation you choose to just smile at her, beaming. She chuckles softly and mouthes a silent 'later', to which you nod almost undetectable.  
“Good to see you all.”, she raises her voice, “We've been afforded a rare chance to delve into Icecrown Citadel, but we must move quickly if we're to avoid Arthas' notice.” Approving murmurs come in response. “Delving into the citadel with so few is risky at best, but opportunities like this are too rare to pass up. Clear the way to the far side and secure the passage to the Pit of Saron. We will need to hold it to move our men further into the Citadel.” You cross throught the Forge with the others, and everything crossing your path to revenge falls. Even if the battle is hard and you get some scrapes on the way, the goal is clearly up ahead. On a few occasions, the Druids who came along have to interfere and heal. But after the fights you head up to the end, where Sylvanas is already waiting. “The Pit of Saron lies ahead, and if our scouts are correct, past that will be the Halls of Reflection. It is there that Arthas lets his guard down, and it is there that we hope to find a clue to his weakness... and a route to vengeance long overdue. Quickly, through the portal! I'll find you on the other side.” She smiles, sure of her victory, and together, you move through the gate to the pit.  
In it, countless slaves overwork themselves, Alliance as well as Horde, being whipped by oversized skeletons. They're mining Saronite. Sylvanas clicks her tongue to this sight. “They've put our captured soldiers to work in the quarry. Kill their captors and set them free! We will need their aid when we confront Scourgelord Tyrannus.” While all of the others run ahead, you stay back for a second and smile in an excusing way. “Please forgive me I wasn't there during the Battle for Undercity. I was in the infirmary of Dalaran, they have not let me go.” - “Then they had a reason to. We won, with or without you... and the traitorous bastards are dead. Now go help our fighters.” You smile for a second and run through the Pit, killing skeletons and freeing workers, who, without hesitation, move forward to avenge their fate. Together with the others, you reach Garfrost, the Forgemaster of the Pit, forming Saronite in a matter of seconds. You storm into battle, supported by all of the freed slaves. Even though he throws giant chunks of the metal and his sheer size is an advantage, you give your all. One of Evan's arrows pierces the Forgemaster's heart, and he falls. The Orc accompanying you, Gorkun Ironskull, paces to the podium and talks about good work and how this Pit will be crushed in a while, but honestly you don't have the interest to listen, and so you stand next to Evan in silence, while a bored Mistral plays with a rat he found. Next, you head over to the duo made of a meat lump called Ick and his tiny master, a Gnome necromancer called Krick. You dodge the lump, no matter how often he tries to hit you, and hit his eye with an arrow, which brings him to the ground, while the others are busy trampling on the Gnome until he begs for mercy.  
“Wait! Stop! Don't kill me, please! I'll tell you everything!” Sylvanas emerges from the shadows, and looks at the Gnome with a look that could make lave freeze. “Why should the Banshee Queen spare your miserable life?” - “What you seek is in the master's lair, but you must destroy Tyrannus to gain entry. Now, within the Halls of Reflection you will find Frostmourne. It... It holds the truth.” Sylvanas' eyes widen. “Frostmourne? The Lich King is never without his blade! If you are lying to me...” The Gnome cowers down. “I swear it is true! Please, don't kill me!!” Suddenly, a shadow from atop darkens the already dull sky and a dead voice calls: “Worthless gnat! Death is all that awaits you!” In a strangling grip, the Gnome is lifted up and desperately struggles to get free, but without success. “Urg... no!” are fitting last words, as the small body falls to the ground and pales to less than a shade. The Frost Wyrm's rider, unmistakeably Tyrannus, mockingly says “Do not think that I shall permit you entry into my master's sanctum so easily. Pursue me if you dare.”, before Sylvanas laughs darkly. „A fitting end for a traitor. Come, we must free the slaves and see what is within the Lich King's chamber for ourselves.“ - “Your pursuit shall be in vain, adventurers, for the Lich King has placed an army of undead at my command! Behold!”  
At this words, countless Scourge fighters storm down the path that undeniably leads further towards Frostmourne. You look into the eyes of Evan and Vorel, before you stand against the dead Vykrul together and slowly fight your way up to a small cave, while Tyrannus yells wild insults from above. “Persistent whelps! You will not reach the entrance of my lord's lair! Soldiers, destroy them!” Wave after wave of skeletons and necromancers gets after you, but with a hard determination, you battle them down, until you stand at the entrance of the cave. Shrugging and cautious, you head in, and as soon as you are a few metres inside, Tyrannus laughs from the outside. “Rimefang! Trap them within the tunnel! BURY THEM ALIVE!” The passage is shaken by a concussion, and begins to collapse. “...run...”, you mutter, “RUN!”  
And as if that wouldn't be enough, skeletons storm towards you next to the falling chunks of ice. You run further, unhesitant in your choice, and everyone seems to manage it due to sheer luck and come out on the platform over which Tyrannus is hovering. “Alas, brave, brave adventurers, your meddling has reached its end. Do you hear the clatter of bone and steel coming up the tunnel behind you? That is the sound of your impending demise.”, he says calmly. Ironskull screams from behind that they'll take care of the advancing undead, and you give everything you have against Tyrannus and his dragon while he yells how senseless your action is, jumping off of Rimefang a short while after to face you. Using his sword, he hacks onto you, and only due to your teamwork you are able to withstand his attacks. Evan is too focused on the Scourgelord, so that he doesn't notice the Frost Wyrm aiming an attack at him from above... until it is too late. Ice explodes where he just stood, and as the fog lifts again... he lies a few metres next to it, seemingly having jumped out of the way just at the last moment, but jumping into battle again. Tyrannus is surprised, so swiftly, you take your bow and pierce his skull with an arrow. “Impossible.... Rimefang.... warn....”, are the last words of the Scourgelord. Gorkun Ironskull advances and starts talking.  
“Brave champions, we owe you our lives, our freedom.... Though it be a tiny gesture in the face of this enormous debt, I pledge that from this day forth, all will know of your deeds, and the blazing path of light you cut through the shadow of this dark citadel. This day will stand as a testament not only to your valor, but to the fact that no foe, not even the Lich King himself, can stand when Alliance and Horde set aside their differences and--- “ He isn't able to say any more words , since a shadow covers the place. You hear Sylvanas' cry to take cover behind her and feel yourself being pulled there, then ice coats the platform and Sindragosa, an undead Sindragosa, hovers over the corpses, before turning around and flying away.  
Sylvanas chuckles. “I thought he'd never shut up. At last, Sindragosa silenced that long-winded fool. To the Halls of Reflection, champions! Our objective is near... I can sense it.”  
You move on to a passageway, and you see Sylvanas shake as you come closer. You let yourself fall back to her and rub her arm lightly. When her blood-red eyes turn towards you, you smile encouragingly, and her orbs get hard and determined. Then, you run forward to the others. Sylvanas stops for a moment.  
„Keep moving, the sword is close. I need a moment to send one of my dark rangers back to the airship. With all of our fodder gone, I will not be caught unprepared - we will need any help they can send. Go. I will meet you in the Halls of Reflection.”  
You go ahead through the portal, and Sylvanas comes out behind you. In front of you, the sword floats – unguarded, just hanging in the air. Evan stares at the blade, and Mistral growls, as if he'd not sure whether to be afraid or angry.  
Sylvanas' gaze instead is fixed on the sword. “I- I don't believe it” Frostmourne stands before us – unguarded – just as the gnome claimed. Come, heroes!” - “Can you remove the sword?”, Evan asks quietly. Together, you go ahead to the blade.  
“Standing this close to the blade that ended my life... The pain... It is renewed.”, she says with a pressed voice, and you don't want anything more than embrace her and make her forget the pain. “I dare not touch it. Stand back! Stand back as I attempt to commune with the blade. Perhaps our salvation lies within...” She lets her hands circle around each other, and a blue glow starts to form. Her magic works its way on the sword, and even though this weapon caused so much grief, it looks astonishing.  
A ghost emerges from the glow. He doesn't seem familiar to you, but Sylvanas seems to recognise him. “Careful, girl. I've heard talk of that cursed blade saving us before. Look around you and see what has been born of Frostmourne.” - “Uther... Uther the Lightbringer. How...” - “You haven't much time. The Lich Kings sees what the sword sees. He will be here shortly.” Fierce determination appears on Sylvanas' face. “The Lich King is here? Then my destiny shall be fulfilled on this day!” Empathy is painting Uther's face. “You cannot defeat the Lich King. Not here. You would be a fool to try. He will kill those that follow you and raise them as powerful soldiers of the Scourge. But for you, Sylvanas, his reward for you would be worse than the last.” She looks almost desperate. “There has to be a way...” - “Perhaps, but know this: There must always be a Lich King. Even if you were to strike down Arthas, another would have to take his place, for without the control of the Lich King, the Scourge would wash over this world like locusts, destroying all that they touched.” - “Who could bear such a burden?”, she asks thoughtfully, more herself than the Paladin. The ghost shakes his head. “I do not know, Banshee Queen. I suspect that the piece of Arthas that might be left inside the Lich King is all that holds the Scourge from annihilating Azeroth. Alas, the only way to defeat the Lich King is to destroy him at the place where he was created.” - “The Frozen Throne...” - “Aye.” A bang is heard. “ ARRRRRGHHHH! He... he is coming. You... you must...” Uther is raised into the air, and you see the man responsible for all of this pain. Mistral hisses aggressively, and blank hate covers Evan's and Sylvanas' faces.  
“SILENCE, PALADIN!” His voice is like you already heard it – cold, dark, dead. Full of hate. And triggering hate. He stomps over in big steps and comes to a stop, almost mockingly close to you. “So, you wish to commune with the dead? You shall have your wish.” He pulls the sword from the air. “Falric. Marwyn. Bring their corpses to my chamber when you are through.” Two forms materialise right and left in the hall, and give an answer in unison: “As you wish, my lord.” You cautiously draw your weapon, and Evan and Mistral go into a battling stance. The more incorporeal one commands “Soldiers of Lordaeron, rise to meet your master's call!”, and row after row of ghosts appear.  
Sylvanas seems unaffected. “You will not escape me that easily, Arthas! I will have my vengeance!” She runs, together with the Dark Rangers, after the retreating shape of the Lich King.  
It starts. Wave after wave of the dead are sent out for you, but you manage bringing them into their afterlife. When the two knights advance, though, things get harder. “We have to make it to Sylvanas!”, you yell desperately, and Evan nods. Blocking an attack of the incorporeal one, the Hunter shoots an arrow into his forehead, and you spin around, taking your bow and aiming an arrow, hitting the other one's throat. Both fall to the ground, and you storm through the door. You run along the corridor, which is free from enemies spare for a low commander. Cries of battle get louder and louder, and at some point, you see Sylvanas, who is fighting for her life. The Dark Ranger, Loralen, lies on the ground, fallen. You aim another arrow and shoot towards the Lich King, but he swings Frostmourne and splits it in the air.  
“I will not make the same mistake again, Sylvanas. This time there will be no escape, you will all serve me in death!” Evan and you enter the battle, but Arthas is too strong. Sylvanas jumps back in this moment of distraction. “He's... too powerful! Heroes, quickly... come to me! We must leave this place at once! I will do what I can to hold him in place while we flee.” Her magic forces the Lich King to his knees and keeps him there, while you and Evan run behind her. She waits for a moment so that you can catch up, and as you give her a sign, the chase begins.  
You run and do your best, then you hear the heavy steps and voice. “There is no escape! Death's cold embrace awaits.” You can keep yourself from a reply like 'I'd rather have Sylvanas' embrace!', though the look on his face would've probably been unrivalled.  
A wall of ice suddenly appears right in front of you, while Arthas comes closer and orders his undead on you. “No wall can hold the Banshee Queen! Keep the undead busy, I will tear the barrier down!”, she commands, and Evan stays close to her, while you and Mistral kill the undead further in the back. The stomping steps get closer and closer.  
It goes on like this for a while. At a few other times, frozen walls block the way, as if Arthas would only play a game with you. But you don't give up and fight on, even though wounds are covering your arms, legs and parts of your upper body. Evan doesn't look to well, either. One of the Ghouls strikes at his face and rips off his lower jaw. You shoot an arrow into that one's face just in the moment Sylvanas breaks down the wall.  
“There's an opening up ahead. GO NOW!”, she yells and runs, and you run after her together, Mistral on your heels.  
You catch up to her, and stand on the edge of a cliff. “BLASTED DEAD END! So this is how it ends... Prepare yourselves, heroes, for today we make our final stand.” You make yours next to her, and shortly take her hand in yours. She smiles painfully, and the Lich King comes closer to you, laughing darkly. “Nowhere to run... you're mine now!” He moves his hand and Sylvanas is taken up by an invisible force at the throat. You look into her eyes, and storm towards Arthas in a despaired attempt so free her. He seems only amused by that and in a flash, unsheathes Frostmourne. You hear Sylvanas scream.  
Pain. Your world erupts into pain. It is as if your soul is taken and squished, as if, starting onto your abdomen, your skin is peeled off your body. Your sight becomes red and black. And screams come to your ears, sounding as if it were your own ones.  
You hear a whisper through the mantle “...Fire...Fire”, before cold arms embrace you and pull you into a black hell with nothing in it but pure torture. 

The amount of time you spend in this delirium of agony, you can't tell it. Time is unimportant. Is the pain taking on for days, or did only mere seconds pass?  
Then, you feel something else. Cool yet warm it strokes your arms, your cheek. “Come back... come to me, Dalah'surfal.” Something soft touches your forehead, and you try moving closer to it. “You're doing good... over here...” You open your eyes, and look into Sylvanas' red orbs hovering over you, whose owner has a smile on her face. You wrap your arms around her, and she pulls you close. “What... happened?” Is this voice your own? It sounds unfamiliar and strange, as if it was... “You died.” - “Oh.” You can't add anything to that. “And why is it... I still feel so much?” She smiles slightly. “Frostmourne killed and raised you halfway in one blow, but Arthas was kept from fully raising you. I couldn't let you go, I...” You lay your hand on her cheek. “It is... alright, I guess. This day had to come.” She grimaces painfully. “Yet... I didn't want it to end that way... but I had to... I couldn't accept that...” You smile. “It happened. And, besides, if I had been given the choice...” You pause for a moment, then you whisper “I would have wanted to stay with you.”  
She places her hand atop of yours still resting on her cheek, and it looks as if she's about to move, when the door is ripped open and she shoots back. An undead without a chin is standing in the doorway, and rises an eyebrow before asking “Am I interrupting something? I heard voices, and... ____, are you awake?” - “Wait a second... EVAN?!” His upper jaw forms into a smile. “Yes.”, he says and winks. A laugh slips from your throat. “Now you're really giving honour to the name 'Jawless'.” He laughs as well, even though that looks pretty weird with a dangling tongue. “And you finally pay your respects to the title 'Dark Ranger'. You look good, for a corpse.” You giggle. “How is Mistral?” - “I just wanted to look for him... has a few scrapes, but everything is alright besides that. Then I won't disturb any longer... forgive me, my lady.”, he says, then bows and closes the door.  
You grimace, and a silence follows, seeming quite uncomfortable. “Soo....”, you say, before placing your hand on her cheek again. Her eyes widen slightly, then she gently strokes your forehead.  
The memory of the time after the Troll attack back then comes up again. The situation was pretty much the same, besides you both being alive at that point. The look in her eyes is unreadable, but she lays her hand on your cheek. “What are you thinking of?”, she asks quietly. “Do you remember when I lay in the infirmary, after that one battle against the Forest Trolls?” She smiles, a simple lift of the corners of her mouth, but looks so alive due to that. “How could I forget?” You turn your head away slightly, and if you hadn't been a corpse now, red would be painting your cheeks. She chuckles softly. “What's so funny?”, you ask, puzzled. “You look exactly like back then. Only the colour is missing.” - “Colour?” She smiles. “Do you think I wouldn't have noticed your blush back then?” For the first time, you're happy that you're dead, and thus no blood runs through you. She bows down to you and whispers “And do you think I didn't notice your looks?” You try to look everywhere but at her face, which turns out to be hard especially when she takes your chin and forces your head in her direction. “I was a fool to wait until we're both dead.” Your eyes widen, as she finally, after all of these decades, closes the last centimetres and places her lips onto yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was it. We're done with this part!  
> I want to thank for all the wonderful comments that finally made me finish translating and uploading this fic.  
> I am very much aware the end is possibly a little frustrating, but I promise to write more with Sylvanas. Maybe even with this reader, let's see.  
> Again, thank you all for reading this!


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